Playing With Danger
by HaraKumiko
Summary: Scout, along with others, is hired to fight mercenaries belonging to the company RED. But things aren't what they seem, and when he decides to find the truth, enemies become allies, and allies become friends... and maybe more. Eventual Spy/Scout.
1. Dislocation

**A/N:** Okay. I know what you're thinking: _another_ story she's never gonna finish! But I have faith in this one, truly. And I personally will be disappointed if I don't finish it. But there's also the whole thing about being a junior and having lots of stuff to do.

So, basically, what this is, is a novelization of sorts of the game _Team Fortress 2_. I haven't actually played the game (or been to Boston, for that matter), so I know a lot of things will be wrong. But if you're willing to help out, lemme know. I appreciate any tips on how to make it better.

PS: I know Engie's name is stupid. I'm sorry.

* * *

The train ride was torture.

Completely empty, save for the staff (who had only been seen when the train took off) and a large man in the back seat. I had tried to talk to him, mainly out of boredom, but he had just looked at me and growled in a thick Russian accent: "I sleep. Leave me alone." Sitting on the seat next to him, was a large duffel bag, crumpling in some spots to fill in for the shape of a chain gun. It had been safe to assume that he was there for the same reason as me. Even with our matching shirt colors of blue that signified us as teammates, I was a little uneasy, to say the least.  
So, I took to staring out the window. Not that there was anything to stare at, except sand and the occasional cactus. It was scenic. It was also boring as hell. I was used to the hustle and bustle of Boston, the land of concrete that I had tamed with my attitude, my bat, and the thudding of my sneakers on the pavement as I left everyone in the dust.  
I've always been fast. It was my forté. Ever since my dad walked out on the greatest woman in the world and the eight sons he had with her. Ever since the emotional problems set in.

We were all different; Jimmy, older than me by a measly year and a half, locked himself in his room and wrote poetry, crying like a little bitch at something as insignificant as acne. Jeremy, three years older, tried to hook up with every girl that even looked at him. Craig and Frank, twins that were four years older, terrorized the town with their pranks. Aaron, four and a half years older, buried himself in books... when he wasn't pounding people's faces in. Vic and Kevin, five and six years older, bottled it all in until they exploded in a fit of furious pummeling.

That left me. I loved beating the crap out of someone as much as my brothers, but I was also the youngest. I was always too late, and that made me even more pissed off. And that's when I realized that I needed to be faster. I started running when I was seven, a year after Dad left. By nine, I was the fastest kid in school. Eventually, Ma caught wind of all the trouble we'd been getting in, and forced us to take up a sport. I chose baseball. Needless to say, I was MVP most of the time because no one could ever tag me out, and I had a killer swing, apparently. When I reached high school, my reputation preceded me; the jocks were impressed with my skills, so they kept me safe from initiation. Which was good, since I didn't want to run away from a mob of upperclassmen, terrified and (from what I had heard) stripped naked.

I never did get the point of initiations.

Anyways; after high school, I stayed at home for a while, going to the field and cages to practice my stuff now and then. Then, I got drafted by Builder's League United, or BLU for short, as what they called a "Scout". I figured it payed good money, so why argue? Now here I was, stuck in a train with a mute guy and a non-existent staff. It was lonesome, for sure.

It was another hour before our destination came into view from the windows. Sighing, I slid out of my seat (only after the big guy had sulked past, bag in tow) and slung my things over my shoulders. He was so tall, he had to actually duck to keep from hitting his head on the train roof. I quickly followed him as he made his way to the front and out into the heat. The sudden change of temperature made me choke on the air as I took a breath. "Jesus -- !" I gagged, making a beeline towards the only shelter in view: a large fort, almost camouflaged in the desert sands.  
The second I stepped inside, I gave a groan of relief and let my bags hit the floor, stretching out my arms. "Air conditioning...!"  
"Not cold enough," the Russian man stated as he stepped inside. "But large. Good." Now that he could stand upright, I could see just how big he was. Holy crap, he looked like a hairless bear on two legs. As he passed me, I noticed a tag on the duffel bag that stated "Sasha", scrawled as elaborately as the man probably could've managed.  
"Yeah? This is the kinda weather I'm used to," I replied, swinging my arms as I looked around the room. Completely blank, save for three doors (including the one we came in), a staircase, a worn couch, and a coffee table. "This is what we'd get back in Boston. In fall, maybe."  
He made a noise. "In Russia, is very cold."  
Well, duh. Everyone knew that it was cold in Russia. At least, in the northern parts. But I didn't say that, just in case he'd get offended. He definitely didn't seem like the kind of guy I'd want being pissed off at me. "Must'a been tough, growing up in that."  
He shrugged. "Easy to get used to."

Our conversation was cut short with a loud "Ten-HUT!" that nearly made me jump out of my skin. The tapping of feet on the stairs echoed as another guy made his way down to us. He had the physique of a soldier, and the looks too. In fact, he even wore a helmet... a helmet that was way too big and practically blinded him. He almost ran into the wall when he got to the bottom of the stairs, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. The Russian merely blinked.  
"Looks like you ladies finally got here," the man snapped in the almost stereotypical voice of a general as he made his way to us, lifting his helmet with his thumb so he could look at us. Looking at a clipboard in his other hand, he frowned. "Where's the engineer? He should've been on the train with you."  
"Engin...eer?" I looked around, not really expecting to see anyone pop out of nowhere. But the next words spoken made me wonder if I was going blind. Or deaf. Or both.

"I'm here, pardner."

I turned to look at the door to see another man had entered from outside. He had a typical working man look to him; goggles that almost completely hid his eyes from view, a hard hat slightly tipped to one side, and a single rubber glove on his left hand. In that hand, he carried a suitcase. In his other hand, he carried a blue toolbox with the number "24" written in yellow. And just when I thought he couldn't be carrying anything else, I saw the strap across his chest. When he stepped forward and stood next to me, I saw that the strap held a guitar case to his back. "The train needed a tune-up when it came to get me." Even with his eyes hidden, they were probably the same as his smile; warm and proud. "Fixed her up mahself, I did."  
The general guy looked only vaguely impressed. "Well, don't be late again, soldier," he barked, checking something off on his clipboard. "Alright. So, based on looks, I'd say we've got our Scout, Heavy, Engineer, Pyro, Spy..."  
"Wait. Pyro? Spy?" I interrupted, earning me a glare from under his helmet.  
"They got here before you, like real troopers. Our spy's out on a recon mission, but he'll be back later tonight. Now!" He straightened up, slamming the clipboard on the coffee table. "I am your commanding officer. My name is Lieutenant Jacob Roberson. You will call me by my codename." He paused, as though dramatically. "Soldier. In fact, while you are here, you will all be referred to as your code names. Just to make sure we've got the right people, though, you will state your name. You start." He looked at me.  
"Uh... Bryan Micheals, sir," I said. I don't know why I said 'sir'. I was never a person to be respectful, especially to someone of authority. It always gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling to see people like this guy freak out. But I said 'sir', and it probably saved my ass, because he looked satisfied... somewhat.  
Then, he moved on to the big guy. "What about you, son?"  
"Aleksandr Astapkovich," he stated roughly, holding up his gun. "This is Sasha. Do not touch her," he said sharply, directed at all of us.  
Soldier stared at him for a moment. "You... named it?" Shaking his head, he didn't wait for an answer and instead moved to the engineer, who tipped his hard hat in greeting.  
"Rick Stetson, at your service." He then looked at me, tipping his chin in my direction. I silently returned the gesture, smiling to myself before being whisked off on a tour of the fort.

Pyro was in the dining hall, reading. He stood up and greeted us... well, I thought he did, anyway. He was dressed in a blue jumpsuit, black rubber gloves and boots, and a gas mask that muffled his words, making them nearly unintelligible. "This is Yusheng Liáng, our pyro. Took me five minutes to figure that one out." As we started off into the next room, I noticed a blackboard in the back of the hall, one that had Pyro's name scribbled on it. I snickered quietly. "Figured it out" my ass.  
"Do you ever take that mask off, son?" Engineer asked.  
Pyro shrugged. "Nrrgh rr-rr," he replied. By the way he said it, I just guessed that he said "Not really".

Soldier led us through the rest of the fort, pulling us into the bunk room. "Pick your beds while you still can, and report to the briefing room at 1600 hours. Dismissed!"  
When he left, I sighed and collapsed onto a bed in the dead center of the room. "He uses military time. Great."  
Engineer chuckled, setting his things on the bed to the left of mine. "Ah, you'll get used to it. You do know what 1600 hours is, right?"  
I snorted incredulously. "Duh. It's four. I just wonder why he can't use normal time like the rest of us." I paused, then broke into a kiddish smile as I started to bounce on the bed. I never said I was mature. Engineer watched, looking at me like I was a freaking bag of kittens and puppies. "At least the beds are comfy, yo."  
After Heavy made sure that it was quite clear that touching Sasha was out of the question, Engineer pulled out his guitar and tuned it by ear before starting to play.  
We all just sat there, bullshitting and drinking (except for Pyro; he just refused to take off that mask) and listening to Engineer sing. He had a nice voice, that was for sure. And he'd stand up and bow like he just performed for the Queen of England after each song, causing us to laugh and cheer. It was weird; we'd barely known each other for five minutes, and we were all joking around like we had known each other for all of our lives. It was nice. The only bonding I'd done with my brothers had been when we were beating the crap out of some punk that had gotten in our way.  
After a while, Pyro looked up at the clock and nudged me, pointing at it. "Fii mnniis," he said. Looking at it, I saw he was right; it was five minutes to four o'clock. So, we all left our things where they sat and headed to the briefing room.

Time for the work to begin. What fun.


	2. Hostility

Holy crap, this one's looooong.

Only own my representation of the characters and the plot. The concept of the game itself is copyright to Valve.

Also, someone asked where Demoman was. Well... here he is. (RED side, anyway.) For those wondering, BLU Demo will be coming in next chapter, along with BLU Medic. Sniper's not coming in until later.

* * *

The briefing room was filled with the scent of cigarette smoke when we arrived.

Blinking and suppressing a cough at the sudden smell, I stopped just inside the door and looked around for the source of the smell. At first I couldn't see anything; the lights were dimmed, so that the map of the area could clearly be seen on the projector. The map showed our base, the RED base, and blue markings that I guessed were our vantage points.

Was he _that_ devoted that he refused to use red marker?

Shaking my head, I took another look around, and this time I did see the source of the smoke: a shadowed figure, sitting in the back corner to my right. Everything about the figure, which I presumed to be male, was dark from the waist up, so I couldn't see exactly who he was; but his legs were clothed in what looked like dark blue pinstripe suit pants, and he was wearing black Cuban heeled boots. Smoke drifted from a half-burned cigarette sitting between the index and middle fingers of his left hand, which he raised up to take a drag. The burning embers glowed in the shadows.  
I must've stared for a full minute, because when I blinked and managed to draw my eyes away from the mysterious figure, everyone had taken a seat. I quickly scrambled into a seat in between Pyro and Engineer (who indiscreetly scooted closer to me). I really started wondering what his deal with me, but Soldier cleared his throat loudly.  
"Alright, ladies. Time to introduce you to the final member of our team... for now. Our Spy--" Soldier looked over at the darkest corner of the room, the one where the figure was sitting. Everyone looked over, but Spy said nothing; he simply raised up the hand holding the cigarette in greeting. "Who has declined on telling us his real name, has gotten some key details about the enemy and their base."  
Spy surprised everyone by speaking. "I don't 'ave a choice in telling you personal details, _monsieur_. It's a part of ze job." I blinked, trying not to look back. He had a calm, relaxed voice with a French accent.  
"Yeah, okay," Soldier said dismissively, waving a hand. "So, would you like to share your findings with the class?"

I didn't know if Spy rolled his eyes at the mocking question, so I did it for him for good measure. There was silence for a while before he sighed, and the chair he was sitting in creaked as he stood, his shoes clicking against the concrete floor. As he passed, I got to take a better look at him; He had a jacket to match the pants, and a dark blue mask covering almost the entirety of his face; I caught a flash of blue-gray eyes that looked over at my table for a split second before he took one last drag and flicked the cigarette away.  
"Ze RED base is ze same as ours, in terms of 'ow it was built. 'owever, zey 'ave wasted no time in preparing. Zeir Engineer 'as already set up multiple sentries around all of ze entrances to ze base." He gingerly picked up a red marker in his gloved hands and made markings on the map. I snickered quietly at Soldier's incredulous expression; if Spy had drawn on our base with that marker, he probably would've had a heart attack.  
"For a strategy," Spy continued, ignoring Soldier -- or, was he? I could've sworn I saw a small smile when the older man rambled under his breath -- and capping the marker. Every move of his was sure, professional. "I suggest setting up our own defenses, and finding a good point in time to flank zem from behind."  
"Or, we could just rush in," Soldier interrupted. "They'd never see it coming."  
"W-wait, what?" I sputtered, moving to stand up, but Engineer beat me to it.  
"Sir, with all due respect, those sentries? They'd rip us to shreds by the time we even got close enough to get a shot off."

Soldier was quiet. He obviously wasn't used to having his plans questioned; he looked at Engineer with an "oh-no-you-didn't" expression. "True... Alright. Let's go with Spy's plan for now," he gave in grudgingly, crossing his arms behind his back. "You're dismissed for the night; get some sleep, we start more thorough planning in the morning."

After the meeting, we all looked around at each other and shrugged at ideas for what to do for a good few minutes. Finally, Pyro piped in, "Hww abbt dnnr? I cnn ckk."  
"Okay." "Sounds good." "_Ladno_." We all said in response (the last one was Heavy, naturally. Apparently, I was going to have to get used to foreign languages here.)  
So, as we all started filing out of the briefing room, I looked back at the projector for no reason. Then I looked again.  
Spy was gone.  
I blinked, staring at the spot for a good minute. Where'd he go? He'd been standing right next to it, staring at the map; probably trying to figure out an idea. I'd only taken my eyes away for a second... apparently, I was staring for a long time, because when Engineer came back into the room and spoke, everyone else was gone. "Ah. Was wonderin' where you'd disappeared to." Stopping, he got a confused look and followed my gaze before looking back at me. "You alright there, Scout?"  
"Uh, yeah," I replied absently, shaking my head and smiling at him. "Just think I'm seeing things is all. Let's go get some grub."

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Pyro was a good cook. That was kind of surprising, since it must've been hard to see with that mask on. But when he sat down with some kind of noodle dish, he just stared at it, with no motion to take off his mask. I sighed. "Dude, Pyro. You're gonna have to take it off sometime, might as well get it over with."  
He looked at me, and behind the mask, I was surprised when I could tell just exactly how he felt about that: scared. He was actually scared to show us his face. "C'mon. What's so bad that you don't wanna show us?" Engineer asked in a soothing voice.  
Pyro sighed, looking back down at the food and sitting still for a moment before reaching up to pull up his mask... only to leave it halfway up his face. I didn't know his mask was flexible. He grinned at me and said, "Surprised? I have my tricks."  
His voice was surprisingly soft, with some kind of accent. Remembering to earlier that day when we had learned his name, I could only guess that it was Chinese. So, I just returned his grin and dug in.  
Dinner was eaten in silence, save for the occasional compliment to Pyro, who would beam and blush sheepishly. He obviously wasn't used to positive verbal contact. I was vaguely wondering what the rest of his face looked like when I saw _him_.

There was a little window in the wall separating the hall to the bunk room and the cafeteria, and standing on the other side was a man, with a somewhat familiar posture. He was wearing a white dress shirt, a black tie, and had his arms crossed as he watched us eat and chat, his face set into one of stone... if stone could show apprehension. It was only slight, but I could see it.  
He had brown hair, with an almost reddish hue, styled in a layered cut and framing his face quite nicely. Speaking of his face, it was just a normal face, save for the nose being a bit big. Okay, maybe it was a little bigger than a "bit". The only way it could've been bigger is if he was a Roman general (yeah, I know history, so what?). But his eyes... holy shit, his eyes. He looked like he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in years, with the deep bags that were under them. But the color of them gave me a vague sense of remembrance, like I'd seen them before. Blue-gray...  
My eyes widened in realization. Holy shit. _Holy shit_. It was _Spy_.

He saw me looking at him. I know he did, because we locked eyes. It was weird; being a Spy, it was probably taboo to have someone see your face. Then again, telling someone your real name was most likely worse. I blinked, and turned to look back down at my food. Why wasn't he joining us for dinner? I shook my head, sliding backwards slightly in preparation of getting up to ask him this very question, but when I looked back to the window... there was nothing. I stared at the window for a good minute before a nudge from Engineer broke me out of my spell. "You alright, son? You seem distracted."  
"I... this is gonna sound weird, but... I could've sworn I just say that Spy. Without his mask on," I explained, scratching the back of my neck.  
"Hmm. He seems like a weird guy, to be honest. I'm keepin' my eye on him," Engineer muttered. I think the last part was more to himself than to me, so I didn't say anything. I just finished off my food and went into the kitchen to dump my plate in the sink.

We were playing cards in the den when Spy slid in. He was wearing his mask again; I inwardly groaned. Another guy who wouldn't show his face in public? He sat next to me, opposite of Engineer, and asked quietly, "What are you playing?"  
"Huh?" Oh, smooth move, me. I quickly recovered with, "Oh, uh, solitaire. Or somethin' like that." Okay, it wasn't a decent recovery, but it answered his question. Somewhat. Not really.  
Either way, he nodded, but didn't move to join in; instead, he watched us play, piping in with a conversation topic now and then when things got too quiet. He even made a few jokes, ones that were genuinely funny. That was good; it proved he wasn't a total stiff, like I'd thought before. Maybe it was just when he was on the job?  
I ended up losing a few bucks (I was a total newbie at solitaire), but overall, it was a good game. Heavy proved to be a little smarter than I thought he was... a little. But as everyone was going to turn in for the night, Spy called to me. "Scout, right? Please stay here, I need to speak with you."  
I waited for everyone to leave before blurting, "I saw you in the window."  
He sighed, fishing out a cigarette case and opening it, retrieving one of the objects inside before closing it with a snap! "I know." He lit up, letting out a deep exhale of smoke before continuing. "Listen, we are teammates, non? I don't want you to zink I am 'iding from you. But it is my job to be discreet. So, don't mention what you saw yet, alright?"  
Well, at least he had a decent reason for wearing that mask. I sighed, nodding in assent. "Okay, sure." At the smell of the smoke, I wrinkled my nose and started coughing. Then the coughing turned into hacking. Spy looked up, alarmed, and tried to avert the smoke away from me.  
"Scout, are you allergic to cigarette smoke?"  
After a minute, I managed to stop coughing long enough to shake my head and croak out, "N-no. Well, I don't think so, anyway."  
Spy relaxed fractionally and continued to smoke, making sure I couldn't inhale any of it. "'ave you ever 'ad an allergy test?"  
"And have them prick me with needles?" I snorted incredulously. "Hell nah."

We were silent for a while. I knew I should go get some sleep, but for some reason, I wasn't all that tired anymore. It might have had to do with the fact my lungs were still recovering from nearly having been hacked up. I smiled to myself at my own smart-ass humor, not noticing when Spy adjusted on the floor. "Are you planning on staying up?"  
I blinked and looked at him. "I dunno, why? Ya plannin' on somethin'?"  
He didn't look amused. "I'm just wondering whether or not I'll have to travel light tomorrow, so that I can carry your body back to the base if we fight."  
My smirk faded into a scowl in record time. "Bastard." I stood up and stormed off to the bunk room.

Now, here's something you probably don't need to know, but that I'm gonna tell you anyway: I'm a night owl. No matter what time I lay down, it takes me an hour at least to fall asleep. But that night, I collapsed onto the bed, threw the covers over my head, and passed out in an instant. It was a deep, dreamless sleep, and the next thing I knew, I was jolted awake by the sound of loud crashing.  
"Wake up, magets!" Soldier yelled, and as I untangled myself from the comforter, I saw him slide his helmet back on with one hand while his other, which held a shovel, lowered to his side. "Today's your real first day! I wanna see you dressed and ready in ten minutes!"  
I lay there in a daze before Engineer shook my shoulder. "Up'n at 'em, Scout," he said, even waiting for me to stirr, sit up, and throw the covers off before heading to the locker room. After taking a minute to wake up some more, I quickly scrambled after him.

I had just finished pulling my shirt over my head by the time I joined the others in the resupply room, the shutter leading out to the main rooms down. Soldier glared at all of us and started pacing. "This is our first official day on the job. Here's the deal: fighting, as you can see, starts at eight thirty in the morning every day, and we fight until cease fire at four thirty in the afternoon. You can take a break to eat lunch, if you dare."  
Yeah, you heard right: we were fighting on a schedule. It was the most messed up thing I've ever heard, but Solly apparently wasn't kidding. "Our mission is to get in, find the intelligence, and get out. I don't care how you do it, just do it!"  
I shook my head, about to make a witty comment when a loud, female voice echoed "Mission begins in twenty seconds."  
I jumped, looking around for the source of the noise. "It's just the Announcer," Engineer whispered to me, calmly pulling out a wrench and patting it in his hand slightly. "Nothin' to worry 'bout."  
"I knew that," I replied quickly, and I could tell no one believed me. It was amazing how calm everyone looked. Spy was pulling out a cigarette from his case and lighting up; Heavy adjusted Sasha in his hands, an ecstatic smile on his face; Pyro was... well, I couldn't tell what he was feeling, but he clenched the flamethrower tightly, either out of anxiety or anticipation; Engineer whistled quietly, using the wrench as a metronome in his hand; Soldier was pacing around, that shovel still in his hand. He even banged it rapidly against this helmet once or twice, too, as though trying to amp us up for our first fight.  
It didn't do that for me. But it did make me wonder if that was why he was so crazy.

"Mission begins in five... four... three... two... one!"

The shutter lifted slowly, and I immediately raced out. Okay, I'll admit, I was kinda nervous. But that was quickly replaced with adrenaline-induced excitement. Engineer followed me for a short while before breaking off down a hall to the intelligence room, probably to set up sentries outside of it. Nice.  
I had a bag with me; in it was a pistol, some ammunition, and my baseball bat. I stopped to lean against a wall, cocking my Scattergun and poking my head around the corner to look outside... only to see that the RED's Scout was looking right back at me.  
We both froze. It was almost like looking in a mirror, except that the RED Scout had dark brown hair sticking out from under his hat, and his face was riddled with acne scars. His eyes were so clear, too: light brown. He must've been my age, if not a year or two younger.  
I almost wondered how he'd gotten over here so fast, but then I remembered: he was a Scout. And even a RED Scout! I yelped, jumping backwards and firing at him. He ducked back behind the wall, waiting until I had to reload before dashing inside, returning fire with a loud yell. His arms recoiled with each shot; he wasn't used to firing a gun that size.  
Neither was I. But he didn't need to know that.  
We chased each other around, trying to hit each other. We both came close a couple of times, but neither of us were planning on going down the first fight. And after a minute, he almost had me... until he pulled the trigger and nothing happened. He blinked, looking down at it and back up at me before scowling and ducking down the hall to the intelligence room.  
"Hey!" I yelled after him, giving chase before I remembered my headset. I switched it on and pulled out my pistol. "Spy, RED Scout headin' for the intel!"  
"Copy," he replied smoothly, and I shook the kid's startled face from my mind as I started making my way towards the RED base, dodging shots from their Soldier's shotgun. Unfortunately, it sounded easier than it was; he chased me around for a good few hours, just trying to hit me. 'He must have a vendetta against Scouts,' I thought as I tried to catch even a second's breath.

I saw our Soldier below me, firing at the RED Pyro, who was hiding behind a stack of barrels. But Solly was too busy gloating about how he had him in a corner to notice that the RED Heavy was coming up behind him. I waited until Heavy stopped below me before pulling out my bat and jumping down with a yell, my bat hitting the big lug's skull with a thud.  
I jumped away immediately, knowing that he could do serious damage with just his fists alone, as the Heavy stumbled, stunned. Soldier looked back just in time to see me hit him, and gave me a grateful salute as he turned and fired at the Heavy with his shotgun. The Heavy fell back with a thud, blood spurting from his arm as he howled in pain. "Pyro behind you!" I reminded him as I took off, thoughts racing in my head as to how I could avert the RED Soldier while getting to the intel.  
Needless to say, that led to another game of cat-and-mouse with not just said man, but also dodging the sentries and an Engineer that liked waving his pistol in my direction. But I lost the latter after a while, smirking as my heart pounded in my ears, my legs burning... and I loved it. I jumped up onto a construct next to the RED base's entrance and spread my arms out. "C'mon! I'm not even winded!" I yelled at him.  
My smile faded when I saw him pull out the rocket launcher, and I dived in through the entrance just as a rocket hit the wall behind me.

With a yelp, I miscalculated and ended up rolling along the floor, quickly pushing myself up when I could. Staying still in this place was suicide, and I knew it. I looked around, suspicious. Spy had said that there were sentries around the entrances, right? So... where were they?  
Something clattered behind me. I spun around, raising my Scattergun at the sound, but lowered it when I saw Pyro standing there, waving.  
"Hey, I thought you were on defense," I said loudly, so he could hear me over the noise of battle rampaging outside.  
He didn't say anything. I shrugged, and turned away to head for the main room.

Big mistake.

He had jerked my arm behind my back and put the knife to my neck before I could even blink. The disguise faded away, and I could hear the smug grin on his tobacco-smelling French accent as he stated, "That wasn't very smart of you." I struggled, the blade nicking my neck as I did. "At least you are a fighter," the RED Spy drawled, chuckling as he spun me around to face him. He had the knife lifted in the air, but once he saw my face...

He stopped. Blinked. And got a look of genuine horror on his face. "You..."

I didn't wait for him to say anything else. I forcibly jerked my arm away from his grasp and buried the side of my gun into his stomach. He doubled over, coughing, and I took off to the intelligence room. But as I ran, I couldn't help but wonder: why did he stop? And what was that look for?  
He almost looked like... he recognized me.

Here's a hint: never let your mind wander during a fight. Because the next thing I knew, my face met a brown bottle marked with three X's. I gave a little "oof!" of pain and fell, the back of my head hitting the floor with a sickening "crack!".  
"Aye, ye should've watched where ye were goin', laddie!"  
I blinked, groaning and looking up at the man who had knocked me down. He was a huge black man, leaning over me with a grin and taking a drink from the bottle. He wore an eye-patch over his left ey, and his hair was hidden under a black bandanna. "Fff..." What the hell was this guy?! We didn't have one of him on our team, what a gyp!  
He lifted the bottle again, ready to smash it on my head, but a gloved hand grabbed his wrist. "Wait, monsieur!"  
The man looked up at... the RED Spy. "Wot t'e...?"

I wasn't paying attention to the announcements, so I was just as surprised as they were when I heard a loud siren and the Announcer's voice stating, "Time has expired."  
The drunken man scowled at his teammate as he stood up, leaving me laying on the floor, dazed. "Now what'dye go 'nd do that for? I had 'im!" I don't know how I did it, but I vaguely recognized the accent as Scottish.  
The RED Spy said nothing, but looked down at me, his expression unreadable. "Go back to your base. We're done here."  
I was already up and jogging away by the time he finished his sentence. I would've run, but my legs were aching, and frankly, I wanted to take my time so I could think. Why did the RED Spy let me go? And who the hell was that big Scottish man?

When I got back to my base, everyone was waiting in the entrance. "What the hell was that?!" Soldier said, looking rather annoyed. "Why didn't you get the intel?!"  
I wasn't in the mood to hear his shit, so I snapped back, "Hey! You weren't the one gettin' rockets launched at ya every turn!"  
Soldier's face got even redder, but Engineer stepped in. "Now, c'mon, Solly. He saved you, didn't he?" He earned a glare that minimally softened, and Soldier mumbled something in defeat. "Besides, they didn't win, either."  
That reminded me of my encounter with my RED counterpart earlier. "Hey, Spy." The Frenchman turned to me. "What happened with that RED Scout?"  
Spy was quiet for a minute, surprisingly cigarette-less. "'e ran off before I could take care of 'im."  
For some reason, I was relieved.

At dinner, I told everyone about the Scotsman that had almost made my first day my last. I also conveniently forgot to mention that the RED Spy had saved me. "Sounds like a Demoman to me," Engineer stated, cutting up his steak casually.  
"Demoman?" I repeated. "Why the hell don't we have a Demoman?"  
Engineer shrugged. "Demomen blow things up. It's what they do. As for that second part... it beats me."  
The lack of a counterpart on our team obviously disturbed the others. And Pyro was extremely quiet the entire night. And to think, we had to start the whole thing over again tomorrow.  
I sighed, sticking a spoonful of potatoes in my mouth. This wasn't going to be as easy as I thought.


	3. CheckUp

A/N: Sorry this took so long, guys. Junior year is crazy, and it turns out I need to re-take a quarter of sophomore English because I failed last year. But this chapter's pretty long, so hopefully, that makes up for it.

* * *

The next day, I was exhausted. My legs still ached slightly, but I woke up earlier and took the time to stretch properly before heading out to the shutter.

It was almost like déjà vu; the RED Soldier was just reaching the bridge when I was halfway across, and I didn't wait for him to break out the shotgun. I jumped up and vaulted over him, hooting excitedly as I hit the ground and called, "Too slow, blockhead!"  
He just stood there for a minute, stunned, before whirling around and yelling in alarm to his teammates. But I was already outside the entrance to their base by the time trouble hit, and it came in the form of the RED Pyro. I admit, I was cocky, so I raised my bat and rushed at him, swinging when I was close enough.  
By the way, there's this little habit I have whenever I hit something, so you're going to have to get used to this: as my bat connected with the Pyro's stomach, I gave a little battle cry of "Boink!"

Don't ask my why. It's just something I do.

By the time the Pyro fell to the ground, I was ducking into the entrance, trying to ignore the disbelieving laughter in my ear. I'd forgotten that my headset was on, and apparently, Spy thought that my habit was funny.  
I made sure to be a lot more focused on my surroundings this time as I checked for sentries and other tricks before making my way to the intelligence room. Surprisingly, the Demoman wasn't there this time; just a few sentries, which meant that the Engineer wasn't too far away.  
I swore and managed to dodge just as a sentry identified me and started firing. Pulling out my Scattergun, I started trying to take out the sentries one by one. It took a while, but I cleared them out and made a break for the door. I didn't see the sentry behind me. I only heard it whirr as it activated.  
"Shit."  
I froze. Dammit, I never freeze. Not like it was going to make a difference.

There was a crackle, and the almost comical sound of the sentry going offline. I turned around and saw a strange device sitting on the sentry, and a blue-suited figure stalking away to disappear.  
The damn Spy saved my life.  
I flashed a grateful smile in the direction he left in before going back to my mission: getting the intel. The door was locked, naturally, so I started slamming my shoulder into it in an attempt to break it down.  
"Scout's outside zee intelligence room," I heard Spy inform the others over my headset.  
"Alright! Heavy, get down there and help him!" Soldier yelled over faint sounds of gunfire.  
"Da," came the reply, and I was relieved to know that I'd get at least some backup.

The door has some good indents in it by the time Heavy came thudding down the hallway. "Yo, help me break this down!" I called to him, and after setting Sasha down in a relatively safe spot, he proceeded to join me in beating the crap out of the door.  
After another few minutes, it finally fell open with a metallic groan, and the second I stepped in, a loud explosion sounded down the hall. "Come an' get me, ye bloody brute!" the RED Demoman yelled, and while Heavy hurried to pick up Sasha, my mind immediately switched to "grab the intel and get the hell out" mode. I reached out, my fingers brushing the handle of a red briefcase –  
And I recoiled when the knife sliced my forearm.  
"Impressive," the RED Spy mused, poised to strike again. "Now let's see how fast you really are!"

Oh, shit.

I pulled out my bat just in time to swing at his arm. He drew back from his attempted stab, and it was almost funny; butterfly knife versus aluminum bat.  
I swung again, but he intercepted it with his forearm. We stood there, trying to overpower each other when the Announcer's voice echoed, "Five minutes! I repeat, five minutes until the end of the match!"  
We both looked up, but I looked back before him. I adjusted my position, bringing my leg up behind his knees and kicking them out from under him. He fell with a surprised noise and hit the floor, and, without hesitation, I put the tip of my bat against his neck to keep him from moving. "Not so tough now, are ya?" I sneered, reaching up to grab the briefcase before moving to the door.  
He laughed weakly, and then coughed. "You 'aven't changed a bit… Bryan."

I stopped in my tracks. Did he just…? I looked back at him, eyes wide in surprise. He was still on the floor, trying to catch a breath after I nearly caved in his windpipe. "H-how the hell do you –"  
"Scout! Let's go!" In the doorway, Soldier was waving at me frantically. I spared the RED Spy one last glance before adjusting my grip on the briefcase and taking off through the door.  
The three of us ran, me, Heavy, and Soldier. The other two cleared a path straight to our base while I literally had to slow to a jog to keep from outrunning them. Gunshots ran out all around me, but I didn't pay attention. I had my own mission, and dammit, I was gonna complete it!

My confidence evaporated into nothing when I heard the familiar sound of a Scattergun firing. I felt a piercing pain in my leg, and warmth, and I fell, screaming in pain. The RED Scout quickly followed as Spy buried his knife in his back, just inches above the younger boy's heart, and was kneeling next to me before the RED Scout had even hit the ground. "'eavy, take zee briefcase!" he ordered, picking me up once he was sure I couldn't walk by myself and carrying me fireman-style into the building, Heavy in front of us.  
It was all a blur, a slow blur that hurt my eyes. Not even the Announcer's message of victory brought a smile to Spy's face as he quickly brought me into the infirmary and set me down on a bed. "Engineer, place a request for a medic a…" Solly said more than that, but everything went all funny. The last thing I saw before I passed out was Spy leaning over me, worry clear in his eyes.

---------------

I was swarmed with dreams. Hitting my first home run on the field… waking up to find myself back in Boston with Ma cooking breakfast… but the weirdest one was of me, sitting on the edge of a dock with my feet in the water as Spy stood next to me. I could see him saying something, but I just couldn't hear the words.

I woke up at the mumbling outside of the door. Everything hurt, especially my leg, and I swept the blankets off of me to see that it was covered in bandages, dried blood staining them and the bed itself. I laid there for a few moments, trying to get back to sleep, but eventually, curiosity got me out of the bed and limping towards the sounds. I pushed the door open just enough to poke my head through…

Spy was talking to two strangers. One was large, almost a clone of the RED's Demoman, complete with the eye patch and the accent as he mentioned how empty the place felt. But whereas the RED Demoman had an almost-afro, this guy's hair was short, really short. He occasionally lifted a brown glass jug and took a swig of whatever was inside of it. Probably booze.  
The other guy was older, with brown hair that was graying around his ears and small, round glasses. He was decked out in black boots, brown pants, and a white over-coat.  
"How many vere injahed?" I heard him ask in a surprisingly young-sounding voice, thick with what I recognized as a German accent.  
Spy chuckled dryly. "More like 'ow many _weren't_. But there's only one person that was severely injured. So, you will examine everyone tomorrow?"  
"Jawohl, Herr Spy."  
"Magnificent. Now, let me show you around." Spy led the two away, and I made my way back to the bed, letting out a quiet hiss of pain. "Examine" us? It sounded like the older guy was a medic, then… my brain obviously didn't want to think about it further than that, because I fell back asleep.

I was eased awake by a hand shaking me gently. "Scout?"  
"Five more minutes," I moaned, rolling onto my side an pulling the covers up to nearly cover my face.  
"C'mon, son. We got new teammates, we're gonna git fixed up."  
After more gentle coaxing, Engineer managed to get me up and helped me limp into the main room. Everyone was awake, more or less; Pyro could've been sleeping standing up, for all I knew.  
"Alright," Soldier stated as he made sure we were all accounted for. "Listen up. Our request for supplies and --" He twitched slightly. "Reinforcements went through right away and, as you can see, we got 'em. How about our new additions introduce themselves?"

I'm gonna break here to tell you something: to this day, I have no idea why he asked for everyone's names.

Sprawled on the sofa, Demoman gave a slightly mocking salute, bottle in his hand. "Jared Stone, at'cha service," he greeted warmly, taking a deep drink. At least he was friendly.  
The older guy I'd seen last night, the Medic, was sitting on the only spot that wasn't taken up by the Scotsman, one leg crossed over the other and hands clasped around his knee. Once everyone's eyes were on him, he adjusted his glasses. "Hallo. My name is Wilhem Brandt."  
Soldier stopped and peered at Medic. "You, uh… you German?" A nod in response. Soldier frowned deeply, suspicion setting into his features. "You serve in World War II?"  
Medic stiffened in his seat. Uh-oh. "Hey, uh, h-how about we get to fixin' us up?" I interrupted. "Some of us can barely walk here, y'know."

Since I was the most injured, I got to see Medic first. And once we were in the safety of his office (a small room right next to the entrance of the infirmary that looked almost exactly like a doctor's office), he propped my leg up on a tray that pulled out from the bed and took off the bandages, starting to remove pieces of shrapnel from the injury with a long pair of tweezers. "You didn't need to do zat."  
I blinked, and then shrugged. "You don't know Solly."  
"You don't eizah. You've only been out here a few days," he pointed out, smirking slightly as he set down the tweezers once he was certain that all of the shrapnel had been removed.  
"Yeah, well, when ya fight with someone, ya learn stuff. He's really twitchy around the enemy Heavy, so I'm just guessin' that he's not too hot with people from Europe. Besides, he probably would've assumed you were a Nazi or sumthin'." I chuckled quietly, shaking my head.

Medic got really quiet, turning away from me and busying himself with dousing bandages in antiseptic. My stomach dropped slightly. "You… _aren't_, right? At least, not anymore?"  
He sighed, turning back to me with a somewhat guilty expression. "I did zingks I'm not proud of, I'll admit. But I put zat behind me a long time ago." Well, that was a slight relief. "Now, hold still. Zis vill stingk."

Shouts of pain echoed out into the hallway.


	4. Investigation

A/N: Hey guys! Guess what?

You get an update! :D

This one came by pretty fast, and it really let me practice Heavy and Spy's accents. This one explains why Engie's kind of a stalker. And then gay stuff happens that makes Scout out to be a schizo. Then: **_more_** gay stuff! Sorry if the pacing is off.

EDIT: Okay. I had to re-upload this chapter because I realized that Kristallnacht happened _before_ the war technically started. So, here's the edited version. 333

* * *

We sucked the entirety of the next week. We only managed to capture the RED's intel once, while they got us twice. Everyone agreed that it was because of my leg, which hadn't quite healed yet, but Soldier still divided the blame between us equally. Oddly enough, this made me feel a little better. I was starting to grow accustomed to the way he yelled at us all the time.  
Spy was in charge of sorting through all of the information, and when I wasn't talking to Engineer about new schematics or home lives or education (he was actually surprised when I knew who invented the electric motor -- Micheal Faraday, by the way), I was with Spy, helping him out.  
He was really quiet most of the time. Not surprising. All that came from him was an occasional "hmm" or casual question.  
"Scout, could you look at zees?" I looked up in surprise to see him holding a stapled report out to me, a disconcerted expression in his eyes.  
"Uh, sure." I set down a file I'd been looking at marked "Confidential" and took the report from his gloved hand. I quickly scanned through the first page, and then frowned. The situation in the report sounded awfully familiar… I turned and walked over to the archives (which consisted of boxes on a bookshelf) and rifled through the one we'd taken last week. Sure enough, there was a report in that one as well. Looking at the two side-by-side, I saw what he was getting at. "This report… it's the same as the one we got last week. Just worded differently."  
Spy nodded, looking relieved. "Indeed. And it's the same for all of zeese, as well." He waved at the scattered papers covering the desk, leaning towards me in his chair. "Zees doesn't make any sense…"  
I flipped to the end of the report and couldn't believe my eyes. "Dude, the last page of this report isn't even words; it's a picture of Audrey Hepburn in a swimsuit! What the hell?"  
Spy gave a tired sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose, muttering "_Mon dieu_" under his breath. He looked absolutely exhausted, even more than usual, and I noticed.  
"Hey, who knows? It's probably just the RED's way of pranking us. Don't worry about it," I offered, setting both reports on the desk and kneeling next to him. "Why don't you go to sleep? You look like shit."  
He smiled wryly, looking over at me. "Thanks, Scout. I do not think you could 'ave sugar-coated that any more."  
"No problem. And hey; call me Bryan."

As I stood up and went for the door, he called me back. "Scou— erm, I mean, Bryan?" I turned back to look at him. "I… must apologize. For the first day? You are much smarter than I thought you were."  
I blinked, taking in how sincere his words sounded. "…Uh, don't worry about it." I flashed him a smile and headed out of the war room.  
I couldn't sleep at all that night. I kept thinking about the intel: RED must've put those in, to throw us off. That had to be it.

So why didn't I believe it?

At six-thirty in the morning, after a whole three hours of sleep, I got up, got into some sweats and a hoodie, and went outside. Since I'd stopped limping, I'd been trying to get back on track with my running. I still had some pain if I put too much pressure on my leg, but I was lucky that the bone hadn't been completely shattered (Scatterguns can do that, y'know). So, every Sunday, from six-thirty to seven-thirty, I'd jog/walk around the base. Today, though, Engineer came out after my second lap with a thermos and two cups, and I slowed down so that we could walk together.  
"Hey, Engie?" That was m nickname for him; much more convenient than saying "Engineer" all the time.  
"Yeah?"  
"Why do you spend so much time with me? You've been trailing behind me ever since day one." It might not have been the most subtle approach, but I said it in the most respectful way possible.  
He paused before answering, a fond yet almost sad smile on his face. "I… have a son." Oh. I stayed quiet as he continued, "He's a few years younger than you, but… you look just like 'im."  
"Really? Huh," I said, feeling a little bad. I'd thought he was some kind of creeper.  
"Yeah. His name's Nick, just got into high school." Engie's smile became more relaxed, contented with the idea of thinking about his family. "But, uh, I reckon I have been a bit over-protective."  
"Nah, it's alright. I was just wonderin', is all." We walked a few more rounds in silence until I had finished the coffee in my cup, and he went back inside. After another half hour of jogging, I followed.

Medic was on breakfast duty that day, so when everyone had shuffled into the cafeteria and gotten their food (off the record, Medic can make some damn good Belgian waffles), I wasn't surprised to hear Soldier mumbling about how "European" this day was going to be."  
"I don't think he really likes you," I stated, directing my words at Medic.  
Said German rolled his eyes, not noticing that Heavy was practically sitting on his lap. "Vhy does that not surprise me?"  
"I dnnt--" Pyro cut himself off to pull up his mask, revealing his mouth. "I don't see why he would, didn't that happen a while ago?"  
By now, pretty much everyone knew about Medic's involvement with the SS, especially the fact that he had only joined to defend his country and "expand his medical knowledge", and that he had quit shortly before Japan had been bombed... well, everyone but Soldier.  
"Well, uh... America doesn't have a good track record of lettin' things go," I said, glad that he was starting to open up to us some more. After the first time he'd partially taken off his mask, he'd kept it on for the entirety of the day. This time, I noticed that under his mask was another mask, similar to the one Spy wore. "Y'know, we should have a No-Mask Day."  
Pyro froze. "I don't think that's a good idea."  
"Why not? What's under there that could be so horrible?"  
Pyro was quiet for a long time. Medic cleared his throat and changed the subject, but I kept looking at Pyro as he pushed his plate away and lowered the mask back down over his face.

For the next few hours we spent in the rec room, he didn't say a word. I was really worried that I had offended him by suggesting that, but when I thought of apologizing, he sat next to me and started a quiet conversation about -- get this -- Batman. Pyro was officially awesome.  
Other things soon caught my attention. The captured intel got weirder; Spy found a traffic ticket for a girl named Maria Varilla in a folder. "I do not zink this is REDs doing," he said, pacing by the desk.  
"Then, what? BLU's dupin' us?"  
Spy shook his head. "I don't know. What would they gain from us fighting, then?"  
I groaned, sitting in the desk chair. "This sucks on ice."

All was quiet, the two of us contemplating. After a long silence, Spy sighed. "We shouldn't tell anyone else. Not yet," he muttered, taking off his mask to run a hand through his already messy hair while I watched in amusement.  
"I thought ya needed to keep your identity a secret," I teased, leaning back in my chair. He looked at me, then at the mask in his hand, and then back at me, a smirk on his face.  
"Oh, no, I have been compromised," he said sarcastically, not even pretending to look concerned.

I laughed, then bolted forward to snag the mask from his hand and yank it over my own head. "I am zee Spy! Behold my froginess, si vous plait," I mocked in a terrible French accent.  
"'ey!" He protested, trying to take his mask back as I ducked away each time, laughing the entire time. He finally managed to put his hands on either side of my head so that I couldn't move, grinning. "Got you."

"Damn!" I scowled playfully at him, my laughter fading once I realized how close his face was to mine. He noticed too, because the smile faded from his eyes, and he opened his mouth slightly, as though wanting to say something. I beat him to the punch, pulling the mask off and handing it back to him with a sheepish smile. "Uh... here."  
He took it, blinking and straightening back up so that he wasn't so close. "Let's call eet a night, oui?"  
"Yeah," I agreed, standing up. "You're on dinner tonight, right? Need any help?"  
He shrugged, his face disappearing back under the mask. "I wouldn't mind eet."

So, the two of us made dinner. Although it was more like he made dinner while I stood around handing him ingredients and helping to prep them. It was funny; there he was, at the counter wearing an apron and humming quietly under his breath, looking more relaxed than ever. Who knew a Spy would like cooking so much? And he was damn good at it, too; he made something with mussels and wine that has a name way too long for me to bother remembering.  
"_Bonne nuit_, Bryan," he said as we entered the bunk room. "Oh, and if we lose tomorrow, I blame you entirely."  
I slugged him in the arm playfully, satisfied when that joking smirk he wore wavered into a wince, even if for just a second. "Night, your royal froginess."

A few hours later, I was still lying in bed, trying not to think about how close we'd been to each other, or how easily I could've leaned forward and --  
"Don't even, Bry," I scolded myself sharply, slightly startled when Engineer rolled over onto his side. He was still asleep, but it was enough for me to continue my lecture mentally. 'He's a froggy backstabbin' scumbag.'  
'_Then why are you friends with him?_' A voice questioned in the back of my head. '_Just face it, you're starting to like him. The two of you have been spending a lot of time together lately. Not to mention that there probably aren't any girls around for miles._'  
'What about the RED Pyro?' I snapped back. 'Those suits are massive, there's no way we could tell! Besides, I'm not...' I couldn't say it, even in my head. It just sounded too wrong.  
The voice shut up, but it was a skeptical silence, I started getting ready to tell it off even more, but noises echoing into the room from the hallway stopped me. The door had been left slightly open, and unintelligible words came in. Muffled... like laughing? I climbed out of bed and towards the door, slipping outside slowly.  
As I followed the voices and drew closer to the sources, I recognized one of the voices as Medic. The other's words were quiet, so I couldn't hear any condemning accent. But as I approached the infirmary, the other voice became clearer until it was recognizable: Heavy.  
"...a giant teddy bear," Medic finished saying as I poked my head into the open doorway. They were sitting next to each other on a bed, facing away from me. There was a pause before he added, "A giant teddy bear vith a very large gun."  
"Daht is better," Heavy said in a satisfied tone, putting a massive hand on Medic's shoulder. "Am not completely soft."  
"I veren't saying that you vere, _mein Kuschelbär_," Medic replied with a gentleness that I'd only personally seen once before, when he had been wrapping up my injured leg. I raised an eyebrow when he looked at Heavy and gave a smile that was so... so... personal.

Oh, hell no.

Why my mind automatically jumped to _that_ conclusion, I have no idea. But I didn't want to make any assumptions. Trying to get this thought out of my head nearly caused me to miss what Medic said next. "You ah ze strongest membah of ze team, in terms of brute strength."  
Heavy smiled, then paused in confusion. "Vait. Daht is good, da?"  
What happened next made me apologize to my gut instinct and promise to never doubt it again, because it was right. Medic chuckled lightly before leaning into Heavy and tilting his head and _kissing him_, holy fuck. I could feel my jaw drop as he pulled away, resting his forehead on Heavy's shoulder and muttering, "Ja, it's good."  
I reeled slightly before turning and pressing my back against the wall. Did I just see what I thought I saw? Medic... and Heavy? I had to supress an incredulous laugh. When Medic had arrived, he immediately took a liking to Heavy, who's reaction was pretty much the same. But I never thought they were both fags.  
I wandered back to the bunk room, pulling the covers over my head just as the duo came in.

Too much confusing shit was going on.


	5. Moving?

A/N: The plot, it does not thicken, sadly. But this chapter features a base switch, some more slightly gay stuff, Nazi stories, and RED Spy. BUT WHO CARES, THERE'S A PYRO.

* * *

Everyone's expression was pretty much the same, one that clearly stated 'What did he just say?' Soldier stood at the front of the room, looking somewhat agitated himself. "You heard me, boys. We're moving."  
"But we've only been here for a lil' more than a month," I pointed out. "Isn't it kinda early to be movin' us?"  
"I don't make the orders, Scout. I just relay them," he said, turning on the projector. A map appeared on the wall, one that looked very similar to the one we'd been shown on our first day. However, this one was bigger. "Essentially, it's the same as this base, only bigger so that it can accommodate separate rooms."  
Medic perked slightly at this. "We get our own rooms?"  
"Don't get any ideas," Soldier responded sharply. "Nine rooms for nine_ individuals_." Spy snickered quietly at my side as Medic sneaked a glance at Heavy. A little while after I'd seen them together, they'd stood up at the end of a war meeting and announced their new found relationship, after which Heavy picked Medic up and carried him out of the room while everyone else stared. It was pretty funny. They seemed happy together, though, so no one really objected; even Soldier learned to live with it after about a week.  
At least, until he found out that Medic had indeed been a part of the SS in World War II. Soldier calmed down eventually, but we still made sure he didn't try to kill the poor doctor.  
The whole thing with me and Spy, however, was still frustratingly complicated. We'd decided to give up on decoding the intelligence after the fourth briefcase, mostly because it had consisted of several pages of delirious conspiracy ramblings and a Bible, as well as the same things found in the last three cases. But I had a feeling that the other part of the reason was that things just weren't the same after that night. I had even more trouble talking to him than before, mostly because I wouldn't stop stuttering, and he apparently forgot how to talk at various points of conversation, and leave sentences unfinished.  
I wondered if he'd been thinking the same things I had: 'Oh crap, what did I just say?' or 'Why's he staring at me like that?' or 'Why am _I_ staring at him?' Then, I wondered if he thought about me at all.

I then proceeded to figuratively punch those questions in their figurative faces.

"Pack up, maggets. The train will be here at nine hundred hours tomorrow," Soldier said, breaking me from my daydreams.  
When he left, Demo added with a sly grin, "Bett'r give this place a prop'r guidbye tonight."

* * *

Spy laughed, holding a glass of booze in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other. It was one of those stereotypical French laughs, which, in turn, made me burst into hysterical giggles. Medic was telling a story about the war where a soldier had accidentally shot a fellow general's finger off, leaning into Heavy and looking ready to pass out at any second. What a lightweight. Demo broke in with comments and jokes, some of which were barely intelligible, and nearly falling over once or twice. Spy was probably the most sober out of all of us, with Soldier, Heavy, me, and Pyro following. Then again, Pyro wasn't drinking. In fact, I had no idea where he even _was_.

"Zat soldiah survived Normandy, actually," Medic continued, pausing to take another drink. "But he vas killed outside of Hamburg by some American psychopath that attacked his camp."  
Soldier turned to Medic, his eyes narrowed slightly. "July 17th, 1944?" he asked, grinning like the devil when the doctor nodded. "That 'psychopath' was me."  
"No shit!" I said, stifling a laugh at the surprised expression on Medic's face.  
"Hell yeah. Went in with a shotgun and seventy rounds of ammunition. It's how I got –" Soldier pulled off his helmet and leaned forward so that the fire would illuminate his face, pointing at a small scar right between his eyebrows. "This. Bastard almost got me with his bayonet. 'Swhy I started wearing this helmet."  
I took a minute to take in his face. Usually, he wore that helmet whenever we saw him, leaving all but half of his nose and his mouth visible, so this was the first time I'd actually gotten a good look at him. His eyes, narrowed slightly, were a stormy gray color, complimented with a buzz cut that was starting to grow out. What I could see of his hair looked dark, maybe black?  
"Hey."

We all turned to look at the source of the voice, the soft strumming of Engineer's guitar stopping suddenly. In the doorway was a guy, a little older than me, with an apprehensive expression on his face. His hair was a tangerine orange color, cut short on the right and long on the left so that it hid half of his face. His visible eyebrow and ear were pierced multiple times, and he wore a plain black shirt and jeans.  
Nobody moved. The guy shifted uncomfortably under our stares and stuttered, "Uh, i-it's me." Silence. Sighing, he clamped a hand over his mouth and said, "Pyrruh."  
It finally clicked, and I climbed to my feet with a slight stumble. "Holy shit, Pyro?!" His face lit up and he grinned, nodding with an obvious relief that someone had recognized him. And as I raced to meet him, one-by-one the others realized who he was, too, and all started talking at once.  
"_Orange?_"  
"Doktor, leetle Pyro is showing himself!"  
"Well, I didn't see _that_ comin'."  
"Your hair. It's orange," Soldier repeated.

Taking a seat next to me, Pyro laughed and, after finding a long stick, started poking at the campfire. "Yep. It looks better than just black, y'know?"  
"It kinda looks like your hair's on fire," I said, lifting up a strand of his hair. He tensed slightly as I did, but did nothing else. "So, this what you've been hidin'? Doesn't look that bad to me."  
"No." I raised an eyebrow and dropped my hand. "It's, uh, behind the hair." He laughed again, nervously this time, and shrugged away from me to grab a drink. "It's just burns, but it's pretty ugly. I figured I'd save you from having to look at that every day. Then again, I might just be paranoid."  
"Not like that's a bad thing out here," Engineer pointed out, adjusting on his little crate of a seat and picking up what I recognized as 'When The Man Comes Around' by Johnny Cash on his guitar.  
Soldier changed the subject by launching into a war story of his own, dozing off with his head on Heavy's shoulder.

Eventually, everyone went off to their last night of sleeping in a bunk room. But not me. I decided to go for one last jog in the desert.  
The only sound I heard besides the rhythmic pounding of my feet against packed-down sand was the chirping of crickets as I circled the base, but after my second time around I started to feel the eyes watching me. After another few minutes, I got sick of it and skid to a stop, spinning around. "Alright, I know you're here, ya fuckin' creeper," I said loudly, looking all around until I heard his voice:  
"Clever." I turned back around to see the RED Spy uncloak and step out of the shadowed tool shed. "But I am not a 'creeper'."  
"Yeah, you are. Sneakin' around and shit, whaddya want?"  
"Language," he chastised almost automatically. "I wanted to ask you a question: did you tamper with your intelligence?"  
"No," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Lemme guess; it all says the same thing and has shi—" I cut myself off as he looked at me. "Uh, stuff that has nothin' to do with this war."  
"Precisely. I assume that eet has been zhe same with ours." He sighed, absently flipping open his butterfly knife and twirling like an expert. "Strange."  
"Why're ya talkin' to _me_ about this? We're enemies." I crossed my arms.  
"Only because they say we are, Bryan."  
"Okay, what the hell does _that_ mean? And how do you know my name?"

The RED Spy hesitated, looking at me with a longing expression in his eyes. "I wish I could tell you. But I can't. Not right now. Eet is somezing zat could be used against us. But know zees: we are far from enemies." And with that, he walked away, leaving me with more questions than answers.

There was a ladder at the back of the fort that was long enough for me to climb to the roof, and it was definitely handy when you wanted to be alone, since you could pull it up with you. The breeze was cooling, rustling through my already-messy hair. Hugging my knees, I stared over at the RED base, which had only a few lights on inside.  
"Bryan?" I turned my head to see Spy (ours) standing behind me, his suit jacket thrown on over wrinkled pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. His face was bare. I'd never seen him look so casual, so… normal. "What are you doing up so late?"  
I bit my lip to keep from letting out a sob. Wait, had I been crying? Damn it. "Thinking," I replied shakily, hugging my knees even tighter. Spy noticed the lack of confidence that was usually in my voice and took a seat next to me. He didn't even need to ask what was wrong before I suddenly shouted, "This makes no fuckin' sense!" I slammed my fist against the concrete, looking away from the lightening sky.  
Spy put a hand on my shoulder, and I immediately turned to hug him tightly, clinging to his shirt. He was just as surprised as I was, tensing slightly, but he didn't push me away; instead, he slid off his jacket and draped it over me, not saying a word. And we sat there together, watching the sun come up over the desert.

Wearing his jacket, his arm around my shoulder, with no one else around… damn it, it felt nice.


	6. Revelation

A/N: This one took longer because I was trying to decide which direction the story was going to go from here. Hopefully, updates are going to be a lot more often. I'm going to try to update at least once every two weeks at most.  
In this chapter, you learn that my interpretation of a Scottish accent has a lot of "oi"s.

* * *

The sun was up, which meant that it was probably past six in the morning. Three hours until we had to leave. And God knows that I can't sleep with the sun blinding me through the window, so I spent my last free hours before breakfast walking around and saying my own little goodbye to the base.  
At breakfast, everyone was either hung-over, sentimental, or, in Soldier's case, insulting my cooking skills as a way to distract himself. And in my defense, my ma took care of all the cooking back home, so the fact that I could even make _pancakes_ was a miracle in itself.

Spy reassured me that I did fine, his hand resting on my shoulder for a second longer than needed. I didn't even need to ask him to keep quiet about what happened on the roof, even if it had just been an act of friendship. I ignored the gnawing, knowing sensation in my gut and got to packing when I finished eating.

On the train, Medic pulled me aside. "I heard you vandering about zis morning. It should take a few 'owahs to get to ze base, vhy don't you get some sleep?" He shoved me into a cramped room with a cot before I could even protest, and within five minutes of laying down, I was asleep.  
My dreams, looking back, were strangely pleasant: the dream that I'd had almost every single night since my second day as a Scout, the one with me and Spy sitting on a pier, was the first to manifest itself, followed by another dream that was just as familiar: waking up as a six year-old to hear my parents arguing downstairs. That dream always upset me for some reason, so I wasn't surprised to feel my eyes watering when I woke up, feeling the train slow to a stop. I took a minute to calm down before getting up and going to help the others unpack.  
Outside, there were two buildings; the bases. Ours, the BLU base, was sleek and polished, almost glowing under the sun. The RED base, however, was less futuristic; made of wood, there was even a barn. A chain-link fence surrounded each base, and in between them was a little lake, with a bridge and docks -

Wait. Docks? Shit, this was the lake I'd seen in my dreams!

I stared at the still surface of the water, dumbfounded, until Pyro bumped into me with a muffled 'oof!'. "Ah - sorry," I apologized quickly, racing off to find my room and get my things set up.  
By the time everyone was settled, it as two thirty-seven, and Heavy's turn to make a late lunch. Medic went into the kitchen to help him and, to my surprise, Demoman invited me to a few rounds of checkers. "We bettin' money on this?" I asked cautiously as I sat across from him.  
"Nay, joost fer fun," he replied, a smile in his eye. "You go first."  
As I plotted my first move, I decided that it wouldn't be too impolite to get to know him. "Hey, how'd ya lose your eye, anyway?"  
He 'hmm'ed quietly, taking a drink of what I'd learned was called scrumpy. "When Oi was li'le, me parents doied. I dunnae how it happened, car accident, maybe. But I got stuck with me aunt fer a few years until she got sick'o me, stuck me in a boardin' school. Met a few friends, got me interested in 'cryptz'ology', er wotever it's called." He took another drink. "Somehae got it in me head that Nessie killed me parents - you know 'er?"  
"That sea monster, right?"  
"Aye. So, I built me some bombs, set out to go'n get revenge." He laughed, gesturing to his eyepatch. "Dinnae work. Schrapnel got in me eye, wrecked it gud. Haven't been able ta see moore than shadoows since."  
We played as he talked, both having lost pieces (me more than him). "Ow. That musta sucked."  
"Doon't get me started on bein' the only black Scot in town!" he scoffed, obviously not done with his story. He did some crazy move that took two more of my pieces. "Me mum ran off with a toorist, 'nd her family didn't take koind ta him, especially since he was black. Cut off ties with 'er, part'a why me aunt dinnae want me."  
I absently took another one of his pieces, knowing full well that he was going to win. "You had it rough, didn't ya?"  
"Ah, it's wasn't that bad. Learned some lessons, got ta be the expert I am!" he boasted before hiccuping loudly. "Ye knew yer parents, boyo?"  
"Yeah, but my dad walked out when I was six." I sighed as he took my queen, and tried to shake away the sense of sadness that I always got whenever I talked about my dad. "Left my ma to raise me'n my brothers. I have no idea how she did it, I mean, there's eight of us."  
"Eight?" Demo shivered, shaking his head.  
"Exactly."

We managed another round (I almost managed to beat him) before Medic called us in for lunch. But we kept up conversation at the table, exchanging urban myths and folktales. Spy even pitched in with the superstition of Macbeth.  
"Never say her name in a theater. Especially if there will be a production 'eld in the near future," he said seriously, turning away from me to exhale smoke.  
"Yeah? Why not?"  
"Brings bad luck," Engineer chimed in. "Had a lil' Christmas play in fourth grade. One'a the older stagehands said 'Macbeth' right before we started. Fell off the stage'n broke my leg leavin' the stage after a scene."  
I winced. "Ouch. I'll keep that in mind."

After lunch, I watched out the window as the train brought in the RED team. Oddly enough, it looked as though the Medic ran things on their side; he was tall and blond, occasionally yelling at someone and gesturing at the base. The RED Scout happened to look over and catch my eye, and surprisingly, he gave me a silent nod of recognition.  
The Medic noticed and followed the Scout's gaze, giving me a grin so evil that it chilled me to the bone. I ducked out of sight and made my way to Medic's room. I had to ask him a question, one that I'd only just been reminded of at lunch by Spy.

"Doc?" I rapped my knuckles against the door to his office-slash-room, recieving no reply. I tried the handle and found that it wasn't locked, pushing the door open just enough to poke my head inside.  
His room was, unsurprisingly, very clean, walls bare save for a medical degree hanging next to the closet. I entered, looking around for a minute before a picture on the desk caught my eye.  
It was framed in plastic, spray painted to look gold in color, and the only photograph in the room. I picked it up gently, glancing over it: two younger men, in black and white, both wearing uniforms that I recognized from history books as belonging to members of the SS. "This must be Medic from the war," I mused out loud.  
Medic still had the small, circular glasses that he wore today, but his face was much softer, his hair missing the gray that it now sported. He was smiling, nervously but proudly, and hugged close to to the other man. Whereas Medic's hair was dark, this guy had light hair and a malicious fire in his eyes, one of which sported a jagged scar underneath it.  
My breath caught in my throat as I recognized him, having only seen him a moment ago.

It was the RED Medic.

Scrawled in the corner of the picture was "_Wilhem & Dieter, 1941 - Du noch verdanken mich ein drink_!_"_, whatever that meant. By the looks of it, these two had both been in the war, and were pretty close.  
I set the picture down just as Medic came into the room. "Scout? Vhat are you doing here?" He asked with a surprised smile once he saw me, adjusting his glasses.  
"I, uh, needed to ask ya somethin'. Well, two somethin's, now." I gestured to the picture, lowering my voice. "You've seen the RED Medic, right?"  
He hesitated, his expression clearly stating 'oh, fuck, you know something' as he sat on the bed with a sigh. "Ja."  
"Just guessin' that I don't need to ask what's up."

He shook his head and started to remove his boots. "Nein. His name is Dietah. Ve ah childhood friends, enlisted in ze army togezzah." He chuckled dryly. "And now ve fight each ozzah. How ironic."  
"That must suck," I said as sympathetically as I could. "He seems a little creepy, though."  
"He always vas an odd one. He was more... enthusiastic about ze var zan I vas. I guess you could call him a 'true' Aryan."  
And I'm pretty sure we all know what that meant. In the back of my mind, I couldn't help but notice how he always avoided using the term 'Nazi', even when there was really no other way of putting it. "Oh, great."  
"Speaking of vhich... I received a note zis morning. It didn't say who it vas from, but it vas in Dietah's handwriting." He crossed his arms and looked at me, with no accusation in his voice or face. "It said zat you have relations with zeir Spy, and zat it has been affecting his performance on ze field."  
My heart sunk, but I scoffed. "Wrong. I have no idea who the hell he is, but he knows me, apparently. If he's been doin' shitty, it's his own fault." Medic's expression scrunched up into one of thoughtfulness, and he shrugged off his coat, tossing it carelessly onto the office chair near me.  
"Zis makes no sense. Ze companies vould know if opposing members had pre-existing relationships, vhy vould zey have us fight?"

I made a decision then. "Uh, wait here a sec." I raced out of the door, not sure where I was going. Medic was smart; he knew something wasn't right, too, so he deserved to know what Spy and I had uncovered. Now I just had to find the said Frenchman and convince him to let us tell Medic.  
I found Spy down by the dock and didn't even wait for him to greet me before saying, "We gotta tell Medic about the intel."  
Spy, in the middle of lighting a cigarette, froze and turned to look at me. "Well, zat was rather random."  
"Listen, he might be a fruit bat, but he ain't dumb. He's startin' to question this whole fightin' thing, too." I felt my heart start pounding with excitement. "And the spook, too! He knows somethin' -"  
"The spook?"

Shit. I'd just dropped the ball. I'd promised to keep this little issue secret, but... I sighed. "The RED Spy."  
Spy blinked, obviously surprised. "You... 'ave friendly relations with zee RED Spy?"  
"Well, no. He knows me, but I don't know how." I dropped my voice to a whisper, in case we had eavesdroppers. "Last night, he, uh, told me that we're not really enemies, that they're only sayin' we are."  
"'They'? Who's 'they'?"  
I shrugged. "The companies, maybe?"  
Spy 'hmm'ed, lighting the cigarette in his mouth as though he'd just remembered it was there. "Never count out zee fact that 'e might be lying."  
"I dunno, man. He must be a good actor, then, 'cuz he didn't look like he was lyin'."  
We were both quiet for a little while, and then Spy nodded towards the base entrance. "Let's focus on internal affairs for now, oui?" He smiled, lifting his hand to gently squeeze my shoulder. Involuntarily, I made a small noise of happiness, the same one I'd made the night before when we watched the sun rise. Spy recognized it, and chuckled lightly when I blushed.

Medic looked at us, very confused, when we came in. And after we'd filled him in on everything, I was worried that his head might explode. "Fake intelligence, pitting colleagues against each ozzah... vhat is going on here?"  
"Good question, doc."

It was starting to get late, so Spy and I made our leave. But Medic called me back as I was just out the door. "Vhat did you vant to originally ask me, Scout?"  
I blinked, trying to remember what he was talking about. "Oh! Uh, I was just wonderin' if you could give me an allergy test."


	7. Confession

A/N: Haha, lame title pun. For Medic's memoirs, I used German terminology to make it a little more realistic. When he lived in Paris, he only managed to learn the basics of French.

Also, so for those of you who might think this is a little sudden, keep in mind that it's been a little more than a month since the beginning of the story, and you'd be surprised at how easily things like this can happen when you're stuck with someone for a month and have no choice but to interact and see them on a daily basis.

* * *

**The Memoirs of Wilhem Brandt  
**

_It was February 12th, 1945, in Paris, France. I watched as the snow was blown from the roof and fell on top of an unsuspecting couple who had just gotten to the doors of the café. The woman was cursing lightly when they came inside, while her companion laughed and slung his jacket over her shoulders.  
Me, I was sitting by the window, with an empty plate that had held by breakfast not too long ago, a cup of koffie verkeerd*, and a slightly worn copy of Das siebte Kreuz**. Almost all of the local businesses knew me by now, either by name or face or accent. My arrival as a 'refugee' of sorts in Paris had not been openly welcome, as it was quite obvious that I was German, but I knew that they had every reason to be suspicious of me.  
Still, to keep myself from being possibly lynched by the community, I said nothing about my service to the Nazi army._

_Part of me was angry that I was being condemned for something that I, personally, hadn't even believed in. I had only enlisted because it would both help to achieve my dreams of becoming a doctor and let me keep an eye on Dieter.  
I had not received word from my childhood friend in some time. The last letter he had sent mentioned that he would be working in a hospital in Amsterdam, but I had no intentions of going back to Germany until the war was over, no matter who the victor was._

_The door chimed again, and someone I recognized as my next-door neighbor entered. I knew little about her, as the only conversation we'd ever exchanged was a friendly "hello" every now and then. I adjusted my glasses and went back to my reading, pretending not to notice the way she flipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled invitingly at me._

"Hey, doc!"

I looked up from my desk at the sudden sound of Scout calling me from outside my office. Heavy sat up from the imprint he was leaving in the small couch I had set against the wall to the right of me and asked gruffly, "Want me to kick him out, doktor?"  
"Nein, nein," I replied quickly, setting down my pen and sliding my chair back to stand up. "He probably just wants his test results. I'll be right back." Not bothering to put my coat on, I grabbed Scout's file and exited my office to see him rocking back and forth on his heels.  
When he saw me, he bounced up slightly before asking, a bit wearily, "Got it, doc?"  
"Ja. Ze only zing you ah allergic to is pet dander," I said, handing him his file.  
He flipped through it with a frown. "That's it? Huh."  
"Vere you... expectingk somezing?"  
"Well... yeah, actually. First day, when I caught whiff of Spy smokin', I started hackin' my lungs out."  
"Hmm. Zat might just be a first-time reaction, or possible asthma. The latter is very unlikely," I added with a smile, but when Scout returned it, it was brief and unconvincing. "Vhat's wrong?"  
"Uh... I was, uh, just wonderin'... how did you'n-n Heavy... y'know..." He took a breath and quickly finished with: "Knowyouwereinlove?" His face turned bright red as he said it, and he furrowed his brows, as though he was angry at himself.

I blinked, letting his question sink in. "Zat vas razzer random. But..." I sat down on the nearest cot and craned my neck to smile at Heavy, who was failing miserably at trying to stay awake. "I guess... ve just got so accustomed to being togezzah zat... ve just could not imagine being apart." Scout looked thoughtful, in a slightly distressed way, but I could tell he was actually listening. "At first, it vas a bit odd, but after a vhile you just..."  
"Stop carin'?" Scout finished for me, his eyes lowered to the floow when I looked up at him. "_Shit_."  
"Care to tell me vhat zis is about?" I asked neutrally, although I had a good feeling that I already knew.  
Scout shuffled his feet and, suddenly, sat next to me and put his head in his hands, muttering what sounded like every single curse in the English language under his breath. Feeling how disbelieving and almost sick he was feeling, I had to question why, out of everyone I knew, _I _had been chosen to be an empath. I put my hand on his back and felt him start to choke up. "Scout..?"  
Whatever he was thinking, it was absolutely awful to say. I was even considering going to get a bucket for him by the time he gave up and whispered, nearly inaudibly:

"I think I love him."

Immediately, I felt the weight lift off from his shoulders, but I didn't move. He sighed loudly and, with a sniffle, lifted his head, revealing tear-streaked cheeks. "Huh. Th-that actually felt kinda good." He laughed dryly and testingly said again, a little louder, "I th-think I l-love him."  
I smiled at him, despite the initial shock of the fact that Scout had let me see just how vulnerable he really was by coming out. "It usually does."  
He looked at me and smiled weakly. "I felt ready to puke. That... was really hard to admit." He paused, then flushed. "I, uh, I'm sorry, for droppin' this bombshell on ya. It's just..." He shifted slightly, and I dropped my hand. "I figured, y'know, you'd understand."  
"Better to come out to someone who undahstands zan to hold it in and self-destruct," I mused, noting how Heavy had mysteriously disappeared from the couch.  
"Ugh. Never thought that people would be usin' that term with me. 'Hey, everyone, Bryan's came outta the closet!'" He waved his hands in a dramatic fashion, giggling in a nervously-excited manner.  
I laughed right along with him, then lowered my voice slightly. "Vill you tell him?" After all of these weeks with him, I had no trouble guessing who exactly Scout was talking about.

His smile shrunk, and he started to fidget with his dog tags. "I dunno. I mean, I think he might like me, but he doesn't seem like the kinda guy who'd be _that way_."  
"You didn't, eizzah. Vell, not to me," I said, not entirely out of just comfort. Hearing him sniffle some more, I got up and went into the office, grabbing a box of tissues for him and coaxing Heavy to come out from behind the door (he never was a good hider). Scout paled when he saw Heavy, but didn't throw out any comments or insults. I handed the box to him and said, quietly, "I do not zink you should tell him -- not yet."  
He blew his nose loudly, nodding. "Yeah, I was thinkin' that, too. It's just... we see each otha every single day. It's gonna be so fuckin' awkward."  
"Awkward is given," Hevy pitched in, standing next to me. "Was awkward when I told doktor I loved him."  
"You wrote a poem and stuck it on my office door," I pointed out gently, looking back at him with a smile. "It vasn't awkward, it vas sweet."  
"Was awkward when hiding and watching you read," he said with a sheepish smile.  
I stared at him, then laughed quietly, reaching for an over-sized hand. Scout stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. Thanks for listenin', doc." He grinned at me, then left, whistling quietly.

I moved over and pulled Heavy towards me, a cue for him to sit down. Whenever he did, no matter what it was he was sitting on, it would creak under his weight, as if protesting. The medical professional in me would never stop being amazed at how healthy someone of his stature was.  
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and I brought my feet up onto the cot, resting my head against his shoulder. A moment passed before he asked quietly, "Who was leetle Scout talkingk about?"  
I simply sighed. "Do no worry about zat, meine liebster. It vill become obvious in time."

------------------

*Koffie verkeerd = caf au lait, or coffee with milk.  
**Das siebte Kreuz = The Seventh Cross by Anna Seghers.


	8. Confession, Redux

A/N: OHGOD. An update? And it's not even good, haha! I treat you guys so well. :P In all seriousness, I'm so sorry this took so long.  
Basically, it's the same as the last, but with added scenes and plot progression. And I should probably warn you that this chapter's a bit crude, in terms of Scout's language and behavior.  
EDIT: Sorry, I had a slip-up when I was writing this chapter. It was fixed.

* * *

I woke up with a strong feeling of "oh, shit."

First off, Solly had called an emergency war meeting, and took the liberty of barging into everyone's rooms to personally deliver the message. He only called for meetings every night by Saturday, to discuss plans of attack, and personal business was handled privately, so it had to be serious if he was calling for one on a Saturday morning.  
The second - and most distressing thing for me, personally - was that I had been in the midst of having one of _those_ dreams, which hadn't happened since I was in high school. So I was late for the aforementioned meeting due to the fact that I was laying in bed, trying to figure out if I should just give up and finish what my mind had started or stay still and pray that blood would start circulating somewhere _other_ than my dick.  
And that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part - and you'll probably find this funny, you sick jerks - is that the dream? It was about _Spy_.

So, as I threw on my clothes, a smug little voice in the back of my head was singing "Told you so!"  
I couldn't really deny it at that point, but even the thought of admitting it made my heart stop. If I did, it would meant that I was one of the kids my brothers and I made fun of in school. Suddenly, I felt kind of bad; those kids had probably felt the same way I was feeling right now.  
So, it probably wasn't a surprise that I entered the war room as an emotional wreck. It felt like someone had put two tomcats in my head and just let them bite and claw the shit out of each other. No one but Spy and Engineer noticed me come in, but neither said anything; Engineer just kind of hugged me with one arm when I sat next to him, as though he could sense how torn up I was feeling inside. Spy, he just looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't.

Did I look as bad as I felt? I hadn't bothered to look in the mirror before I left my room...

But Soldier taking a seat at the front of the room soon occupied my attention. He _never_ sat down at meetings. He preferred to pace around.  
"This morning, I received word from HQ. Apparently, they've witnessed some cross-team communications."

My heart stopped.

Soldier kept his face neutral, but his eyes flashed over to me. "I won't mention who they said they saw, and I am not saying that these allegations are true. But there are official orders to dispose of anyone that is leaking information."

Engineer looked over at me with a suspicious fear, so I guessed that my attempt to look calm wasn't working too well. Spy gave me a sideways glance that clearly asked if I was alright, but I didn't give him any response; as stupid as it sounds, I was afraid that if I acknowledged him, something would happen, and I couldn't say if that 'something' was good. So, I just stared straight ahead.

After the meeting, I found Soldier outside, a cigarette between his fingers. "You smoke too?" I groaned in mock-exasperation, and he actually smirked before tossing it onto the ground and crushing it under his boot.  
"Casually." He crossed his arms and stared at the RED base. He knew why I had come out to see him, and I knew it. I sighed.  
"Did HQ say it was me leakin' info? 'Cause I'm not." He clenched his jaw, but said nothing. I lowered my voice before continuing. "Look, it's their Spy. He knows me somehow, and _he's_ been talkin' to _me_. And I... I can't tell ya why he cares, just 'cause I don't wanna spread shit around before we can prove it. But the minute I can believe 'im, I'm gonna tell youse guys." I rambled on, making sure to say 'I'; I didn't want Spy getting in trouble.  
Solly was quiet for a full minute. "I know I shouldn't believe you. But, against my better judgement... I do." He turned to look at me, giving a sarcastic smile at the camera behind me. "You're a good kid. That's probably why HQ doesn't trust you."  
I chuckled dryly. "It's the ones ya least expect, right? Well, I don't blame ya for bein' suspicious... I'll catch ya later, chucklenuts." I nudged his shoulder before heading off, ducking to the hallway to avoid the pebble he had carelessly thrown at me from over his shoulder.  
I went the entire day trying to avoid Spy - well, actually, I tried to avoid _everyone_ by hiding in my room and staring at my ceiling. I needed to get all of my thoughts sorted out.

I can't try and translate all of the chaos inside of head, but I wrote the main points and results in my journal:  
'One: I am definitely not completely straight.  
Two: HQ thinks I'm a traitor.  
Three: The RED Spy knows what's going on here.  
Four: See point one, add about a million angsty exclamation points.

I can't avoid Spy forever, but what if I let something slip and he freaks? He's the only one I can honestly trust right now. The last thing I want to do is screw it up.  
The whole traitor thing is easy: I just need to be more careful.  
I need to get Red to spill about what this war's about - and how he knows me.'

I only left my room for lunch and dinner, and didn't really talk to anyone else. They tried to get me involved in conversation, and it was a bit depressing to see everyone so worried.

By around eleven at night, I'd been trying to sleep for about an hour, but fear kept me from falling asleep; the stupid, homophobic part of my brain didn't exactly enjoy the idea of a repeat performance on dream-Spy's part. And, by the way, I totally blame my brothers for the homophobic thing.  
Although, to be completely honest... that dream had been pretty hot. For the sake of my dignity, I won't describe the details, but my cheeks started burning just thinking about it. I sighed, letting my eyes nearly close before bolting upright. Distraction. I needed a distraction.

I was skidding to a stop in the infirmary and calling for Medic before I even knew it. I faintly heard him talking to Heavy before he came out to meet me. His hair was ruffled slightly, and he was wearing a pair of stretch pants and a half-buttoned business shirt. I bounced slightly on my heels, a nervous habit of mine, and asked, "Got it, doc?" Before barging in, I'd remembered that I'd never dropped by for my allergy test results.  
He blinked slightly, looking at me curiously before answering. "Ja. Ze only zing you ah allergic to is pet dander." He handed me the file, as if to provide proof.  
I frowned, taking the file and flipping through it, mainly just to keep me occupied. "That's it? Huh."  
Medic cocked his head slightly. "Vere you... expectingk somezing?"  
I paused for a minute. Hell, why lie? "Well... yeah, actually. First day, when I caught whiff of Spy smokin', I started hackin' my lungs out."  
"Hmm. Zat might just be a first-time reaction, or possible asthma. The latter is very unlikely," he said after a moment of doctor-like thinking, smiling. I tried to return it, but he could obviously tell that my heart wasn't into it as I shuffled my feet. "Vhat's wrong?"  
Now for the hard part. I took a breath and tried to figure out the best way to ease into it... ""Uh... I was, uh, just wonderin'... how did you'n-n Heavy... y'know..." Here we go. I took a deep breath and blurted out in one breath: "Knowyouwereinlove?" As soon as I said it, I could feel my cheeks getting hot, and I inwardly scolded my embarassment.  
Medic gave of a vague explanation that, somehow, made sense to me as he sat down on a nearby cot. And as he did, I realized that, up until this morning, everything he was saying fit into place; up until that morning, everything he described; outside of battle, Spy and I spent a lot of time together, talking less and less about intelligence and more and more about personal stuff. That pretty much everyone could tell that there was a friendship of sorts between us made it a bit more awkward. "...But after a vhile you just..."  
"Stop carin'," I finished, averting my eyes to the floor. "_Shit_."  
With a casual expression that belied revelation, he asked, "Care to tell me vhat zis is about?"

I wanted to just walk away. I could even see myself storming out of the infirmary, maybe punching the door on the way out. But, like a dumbass, I plopped right down next to him and started to swear up and down. Dammit, I didn't want to cry, but after a minute, my cheeks and palms were damp.  
Medic patiently waited, putting his hand on my back as I started to feel nauseous. "Scout...?"

Something in my head gave, and I finally admitted what I was afraid to:

"I think I love him."

It felt like something to yell, out of frustration, but it only came out as a tiny whisper. Still, it was like a fuckin' dam broke, and it felt _really_ good. I sighed and looked up, the light and previous pressure on my eyes leaving me seeing spots. "Huh. Th-that actually felt kinda good. I th-think I l-love him," I said again testingly, slightly louder, just to see if I could.  
Medic, in light of having all of my problems dumped onto him like he was a walking journal, was so fucking sweet about the whole thing, going into his office and coming out with a box of tissues and Heavy, who'd probably heard the whole thing. I never mentioned who I had been talking about when I said 'him', even when I decided not to directly admit how I felt, but I could tell that Medic knew.  
Then he started getting mushy with Heavy, so I took my leave, heading for the kitchen to get something to drink.

Spy was there. Just my luck.

"Are you steel avoiding me?" he asked smoothly, popping a cherry tomato in his mouth.  
I surprised myself by grinning at him. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I... had some stuff on my mind. But nah, I'm not avoidin' ya." I opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of root beer. "What're _you_ doin' up so late?"  
He blinked at me, obviously confused, and I couldn't help but feel bad for a second. I had probably stuck him in the front seat of an emotional roller coaster throughout this entire thing, and all because... well, in my defense, being scared of what he'd say was a pretty good reason.  
My smile faded slightly. How the hell was I going to know the right time to tell him? It's not exactly something you can yell over gunfire or slip into casual conversation.  
(Although, imagining that made me want to laugh a little."By the way, I'm a fag. Pass the fries.")  
"I could ask you zee same zing," he replied, his French accent much more pronounced than usual. Was it because he was tired?  
"Couldn't sleep. I dropped by the doc's and got my allergy test results. Pet dander, by the way. Whateva that is."  
He sighed and ate another tomato. "Same 'ere, I suppose. I 'ave actually been sinking, myself." He paused, one of those 'I shouldn't have said that' silences. "But, ah, 'ow about we go out to zee den?"

"Okay, sure," I said, leading the way. And my little dilemma came with my new, carefree attitude: when the time was right, I'd know. For now, I'd just try to wait it out.  
We sat on the couch, and he didn't hesitate to turn to me. "You mentioned zee RED Spy knowing somezeeing about all of zeese, no?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Well, I sink... a war meeting is in order. And zeese time... not just for BLU."  
It took me a minute to get what he was saying. "You mean...?"  
"Ouias." He drummed his fingers on the couch cushion. "Eet seems zat our enemy is zee only one who can actually 'elp us now."  
We set up a little method on getting the meeting together: an anonymous letter, stuck in a bottle and placed in the canals, where the RED Spy frequently went to safely get from one place or another. Keeping in mind that someone else could stumble upon it, Spy wrote the letter in French. It basically said that we wanted to know what he knew, and to meet after hours the coming Friday. We'd only be bringing two people - Spy and me - and that he could bring whoever he wanted to as long as they knew.  
Spy snuck out and placed the message somewhere that the RED Spy could easily find it in. And then, we just had to wait.

Despite the fact that the sun would rise within the next hour, we both went to bed. I was kind of anxious about what would happen, but I was too tired to worry for very long. I fell asleep just as the sun started to turn from blue to gray.


	9. Play Ball

A/N: Okay, so. I had to re-write this one from scratch because I lost the original draft, so sorry if it's kinda bleh. In other news, this one has plot.

On with the show!

* * *

So, the plan was this: Spy would leave a message for the RED Spy to find in the canal tunnel - the place where he often went to get from one base to the next - describing a meeting place and terms of neutrality. Basically, we'd show up wearing neutral colors, and leave behind any hostilities that were implanted into us by the companies. And just to be sure that no one would be able to find out our plan, the message was written in French. A response that we received the next day agreed that we would meet that next Friday, after the cease-fire.  
It was tough finding a shirt that wasn't blue. I mean, really, it was like all of my clothes had disappeared in the last few months, all except for my pajama bottoms and the outfit I had on when I first came to fight. I finally managed to find a black athletic top hiding in the bottom drawer of my dresser.  
Spy and I managed to get away from the others and outside without suspicion; as far as they knew, we were going to go do some training. And the entrance to the canals was close to the patch of field we had claimed as training grounds, so it all worked out if someone came out looking for us.

What we didn't expect, though, was to see the RED Medic standing in the center of the hall with his arms crossed as we descended the ladder. He rolled a shoulder and touched his ear when he saw us, muttering quietly. "What the hell're _you_ doing here?" I asked, surprised.  
"Insurance," he drawled, returning to his original position and giving a slightly patronizing smile. "Our Spy isn't stupid, eizzah. He knew you vouldn't come alone."  
Spy gave a little 'hmm' and moved forward. "Where ees 'e?"  
"On his vay." The RED Medic was just as intimidating up close as he had been from the other side of the bridge, with the scar under his eye giving him more of a rugged appearance than one of a doctor. There was an awkward silence between the three of us as we waited for the RED Spy, until the Medic suddenly asked, "How's Vilhem?"  
"Huh?" I replied stupidly before straightening up. "Oh, doc? He's fine. Not too chipper 'bout havin' ta fight you, though. Say, was he always so..."  
"Protective? Muzzahly?" He laughed, taking away some of the harshness of his presence. "Ja, he has alvays been like zat. Beingk a doctor suits him, I zhink."  
"I'd say." I relaxed only slightly.

Finally, the RED Spy slowly climbed down the ladder, his shoes clinking on the metal rungs of the ladder. "I should 'ave guessed you'd bring 'im," he said as he looked us over. I blanched slightly at the potential meaning, but he swiftly moved on to the task at hand. "So, I assume zat you all realize somezing is wrong 'ere?"  
"Well, yeah."  
He ignored my comment and pulled out a cigarette. "So, we each 'ave pieces of zee puzzle. Let's make zhem fit, oui? We 'ave intelligence, and eet ees all zhe same: gibberish." He exhaled smoke before continuing. "Now. Why would zee companies geeve us fake intelligence and schejuled fighteeng?"  
"Not to mention zat zhey performed background checks on all of us prior to 'iring us," Spy added in. "Zey would know eef anyone 'ad a pre-existeeng relationship."  
RED Spy nodded in approval before starting to pace behind the RED Medic, who was staring at the ladder behind me. "Hey... when I was in your base, I heard your announcer, and she sounds _exactly_ the same as ours," I said, remembering the strange bored tone she held whenever she talked to us.  
"Yes... I have noticed zat, too," the Medic agreed, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Of course, it vould kind of make sense if zhe Announcer is not exactly affiliated viz eizah group."  
"Oh. I... hadn't thought about that."

The sound of light clanking made me look over to Spy, who had taken out some kind of weird knife thing and was doing crazy tricks it with, flipping it open and twirling it around. He caught my eye and smiled weakly. "What the hell is that thing, anyway?"  
"Eet ees called a balisong; butterfly knife," he explained as he flipped it so that the two blades were together before flipping it closed again and sliding it into his pocket.  
"Huh. That's pretty cool." I lifted my eyes to see the Medic almost glaring at me. "Sorry. Talkin' helps me think sometimes."  
"Rules," Spy muttered. "Schedules, rules... We win when we get zhe intelligence. Winners." He lifted his head, then made a face of absolute disgust and disbelief. "A game."  
"Huh?" I turned back to him, raising an eyebrow. The RED Medic and Spy both looked up to him, expectant for elaboration.  
"Eet's a game," he said flatly. "Whoever gets zee opposeete team's intelligence with zee least amount of casualties wins." He held his head, starting to pace in a way that suggested he was agitated. "And we're stuck here until zee contract runs out."  
"Longer," the RED Spy replied wearily. "Zees ees my second contract. You see, once your first runs out, zey find a way to make you keep coming back unteel you eventually die. Zey actually threatened to blackmail me."  
"That's fuckin' ridiculous!" I yelled, waving my arms to add to how hysterical I was getting. "You mean that people're dyin' out here for - for _what_? We gotta do somethin'!"  
"What can we do, Bryan?" Spy asked, looking at me. "Everyone here knew what zey 'ad to do when zey signed up."  
"B-but what's the point if... if they don't even..." I faltered, realizing that he was right. We had all signed up knowing that people would die, but...

I had never been more grateful to hear the RED Medic talk when he said, "Zhe boy is right. Mercenaries or not, zhese ah our men dying out zhere. And let's be honest; who knows vhat zhis var is about?"  
Everyone was quiet for a good minute before the RED Spy nodded. "Zees cycle needs to end." He flicked his cigarette into a small stream of water. "But eet ees late, non? Let's get some sleep and figure out what to do from zere."  
"First things first: tell the teams," I said. "Everyone's uneasy with all the secrets, I can tell. And they deserve ta know what's goin' on. And make the fightin' less... y'know, fatal."  
The Medic nodded. "Ve still have to fight, but ve don't need to kill each ozzah."  
"Exactly."

Spy gave another weak smile. "Well, Bryan, I would not be surprised eef you became a team leader at some point."  
"Yeah? Thanks. Now c'mon, beds are callin'."

We left the REDs with the promise of secret alliance in our heads. "Tomorrow?"  
Spy surprised me by looking at me and saying through a stifled yawn, "Huh?"  
"We tell 'em tomorrow?"  
"Oh. Sounds good, ouias."  
Any nervousness about the situation was buried under the relief and grogginess that washed over me, and I was asleep the minute my head hit my pillow. It was a deep, dreamless sleep, and I probably wouldn't have woken up even if there had been nuclear explosion right outside my window.


	10. Alliance

A/N: Blah blah blah, copyright, blah. I'm nice, so you guys get a two-for-one deal right now. Yay, plot! ...Then more relationship stuff. Darn.  
EDIT: I don't know what the hell is up with 's formatting. I fixed it for those that were confused about the narrative change.

* * *

"Bullshit."

It was the first word spoken since we'd broke the news to them. Of course, it came from Soldier, but he said it as though he was denying an epiphany (that's a word you don't get to use a lot).  
Spy and I were up in front of the overhead, with him stone-faced and me fidgeting non-stop. "HQ knew I knew too much," I said, sounding much more calm than I really was. "That's why they sent that message."  
Engineer put a hand on his half-shaved, half-bald head. "Jesus," he muttered, shaking his head. "So, we're jes' sittin' here, waitin' to die?"  
"Pretty much," I said lamely.  
Spy's gloved hand touched mine for a split second as he stepped forward - it was weird how I was noticing these subtle little things now. "By now, 'eadquarters probably knows sat we know, so we much consider 'ow much 'arder eet will be for us."  
"An' now, we're all paranoid," Demoman muttered, looking pale as he drank from his bottle of scrumpy.  
"Well, what do we do now?" Pyro asked, wringing a glove in his hand.

Soldier stood up, a hand holding down his helmet on the table. "What we've been doing." He moved to stand up with us and, after looking at us, turned to look at everyone while tapping the table's surface. "We have a mission here. I just think the terms of treatment towards the REDs should be a little less severe, wouldn't you say?" Everyone gave noises of assent. "Also, I should mention tour final team member will be arriving tonight."  
"Oh?" I blinked, giving a look to Spy, who met my gaze evenly.  
"Now. If there are no questions, you're dismissed." Soldier stood up straight and looked at me. "We meet tonight?"  
"Yeah. They're bringin' their Medic, Soldier, and Spy."  
"Sounds like a good set-up. You want to come, or...?"  
I paused, then surprised myself by shaking my head. "Nah. It'd be best ta keep the quo even, probably."  
Soldier nodded, stepping away and gesturing to Spy and Medic. "Alright. Be ready, you two. We're meeting at four. Engie, try and get that line set up, alright?"

Engineer was going to set up an encrypted line between the two bases, just in case. He tapped his helmet in a small salute.  
"Are you sure you want to stay be'ind?" Spy asked as everyone filed out of the war room.  
I shrugged. "I don't have anythin' ta say. Besides, I wanna help Engie set up the line."  
Spy nodded, then paused and said, "It feels good to 'ave everysing off your chest, no?"  
I fought the urge to shoot back with, "You kiddin'? I'm not even close to having everything off my chest", but I just nodded and said, "Yeah. It kinda does." I put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Don't take too long. The new guy will get here soon, and I don't want to give him a reason to actually hate the REDs."  
"Of course." He didn't move for a second. Then, he did something weird; he kind of twitched his head so that his chin rested on my hand for a split second before he slid out the door.

I stared after him. Huh.

-_Spy_-

He stared at his face in the mirror, taking in the dark circles around his eyes and the shadow of stubble starting to appear on his face. Without a word, he pulled on his mask, and it all disappeared, the cloth cool and smooth on his otherwise rough features.  
Adjusting the cuffs of his shirt, he stepped out of his room and headed for the den, making sure his cloaking watch was working, in case things got ugly. And once Medic came out from his room, they headed out for the meeting spot.

They were early, naturally. Spy counted the exact number of minutes they waited before the RED Spy calmly scurried down the ladder - twelve. Following were the Medic and Soldier, the first of which showed immediate joy at the sight of his BLU counterpart. "Vilhem!" he exclaimed, pulling said doctor into a hug before starting up casual conversation in German.  
No introductions were made; the Soldiers stared each other down for a minute before moving directly into planning. After a total of seven minutes, the RED spy motioned for his BLU counterpart to follow him down the tunnel, just out of earshot of the others.  
"'ow ees Bryan?" He asked, both to stall and out of a need to know.  
"Confused. 'e tries to be strong, sough."  
RED nodded. "Typical American seese days, no?" He chuckled, then paused before adding, "We're getting our Sniper tonight."  
"I suppose we are, too. Zee last member?"  
"Oui. Eet would probably be best to tell zem right away of zee situation."

The BLU Spy nodded, then turned back to the Soldiers. An agreement had apparently been made, as they nodded and hesitantly shook hands before turning away from each other and making their ways to the opposite ladders.  
When Soldier relayed the "act like you're shooting to kill" plan, Spy couldn't keep his eyes off of Bryan. It was funny how often he was referring to the Bostonian by his real name instead of his code name; professionalism was starting to take a back seat to the whole 'people are killing each other because of a game' thing.  
He also noticed, however, a change in Bryan; he was hiding something now, behind his sometimes forcefully cheerful demeanor. He hadn't been as naive as to assume it was nothing; he was immediately suspicion when he had first noticed it. But as opposed to what the rational side of his brain said, which was that Bryan was either withholding vital information or was really a double agent, something in his gut told him that this wasn't about work. It was something more... personal.  
Their eyes met briefly, and Bryan smiled. There was something strangely sad about it, but Spy couldn't tell exactly why.

-_Scout_-

Spy kept staring at me. I could see in his eyes that he was trying to figure me out, and that he was second-guessing himself.  
I tried to give him an encouraging, 'don't worry about it' smile, but it wasn't too convincing, if his steady, unchanging expression was any indication.  
Not even five minutes later, we heard wheels grinding up sand. This surprised us because we hadn't seen a car since before coming here, and everyone else had arrived on a train.

Our Sniper came in with, literally, the clothes on his back and a rifle bag. That was it. His face was shielded by a wide-brimmed hat, with one side flipped up and a circlet of sharp teeth around the middle, and yellow-tinted aviator glasses. A five o'clock shadow darkened his strong jawline, which tightened slightly as he eyed us all up and down before asking in a gruff Australian accent, "Which one'a ye is Soljah?"  
Soldier nodded and headed over to him. Spy casually came over to sit on the arm of the couch. In fact, it was so casual, I immediately knew that something was up.  
Soldier pointed down the hall, and then made some gestures that suggested he was directing the newcomer to the overlook we had, where he would providing supporting fire during battles. I saw the Sniper's expression change into one of mild disbelief, probably at the "acting" plan or the schedule, and his eyes boredly went over us again.  
And stopped.

On Spy.

His expression immediately hardened, and he cut into Soldier's explanations. "Oi'll figyah it out. Don' worry 'bout me room, oitha; Oi sleep out in me campa." Without one more cold glance at Spy, he turned on his heel and headed out.  
"Not exactly social, is he?" Engineer said, calmly turning to Spy. He'd seen it, too, since he asked, "What was _that_ about?"  
Spy paused. "I don't know. I 'ave never seen sat man before in my life."

Somehow, I knew he was lying.

It was later that night that I got up out of a dead sleep to go to the bathroom. As I was heading back to my room, though, I saw that Spy's door was open just a crack, showing a sliver of light in the dark hallway. I heard him speaking as I approached, quietly and defensively: "Believe me, eef I could 'ave said somezing -"  
"But 'che didn't." The Sniper's voice sounded accusing, and oddly hurt, as it cut him off. I immediately knew that my suspicions were right, and even though my mind scolded me on eavesdropping, I inched closer to the door.  
"Because by business took me elsewhere."  
Sniper gave a little snort. "An' _this_ is yer business?"  
"I guess eet ees."  
There was a minute of silence. I stuck my head towards the sliver of door that was open, and saw Spy sitting cross-legged on his bed. A book was lying open and upside down under a gloved hand. Sniper was leaning against the desk across from Spy, hat off to reveal professionally cut, although unkempt, brown hair. Cracked, somewhat bitten nails drummed against the wood. "Ye could've left somethin'," he said.  
"I 'ad no time, _cheri_." My eyebrows furrowed at the use of the term. "Zee move was... sudden."  
Sniper seemed mildly satisfied with this. "Oi undahstand the secrecy. But Oi don't completely forgive ye."  
Spy nodded. "Understandable." He uncrossed his egs and stood up, extending a hand. "Comrades, non?"  
Sniper took it and gave a two-fingered salute. "Roight. Lesee if ye aim as good as ye persuade."

I was halfway down the hall by the time Sniper came out from Spy's room. For some reason, the fact that they knew each other bothered me, since the undertones of their conversation sounded... personal.  
I habitually turned on the light in my room, and caught a glimpse of something in the corner of my window. It was caught in the bush, flapping slightly in the wind. When I opened my window and untangled it from the dead branch, I found that it was a picture.  
After five second of looking the picture over, a quiet breeze picked up outside, creating a serene atmosphere that was lost in the familiar sensation of confusion washing over my mind. Because I recognized the young woman smiling at me, sitting at a table with a long glass and umbrella garnish. Scribbled in the corner was her name.

Lillian Micheals.

My mom.


	11. Tagging Out

A/N: I had a bit of an epiphany a few nights ago while I was staring at the clock and yelling "LET ME SLEEP!1!" So, if this chapter seems, I dunno, kinda strange, it's 'cause I was thinking about stuff being said by the reviewers. And on that note, thanks to everyone who's offered critique and their thoughts! It's really helped. Check my profile for a little gift. :)  
I put Heavy's Russian in so that you can easily copy and paste for translation.

* * *

Strangely enough, the battles started becoming less serious after the alliance, and a hell of a lot more fun.

Of course, it took a few tries for everyone to get the hang of it. During the first fight, I got a rather nasty bruise across my stomach from the RED Scout's bat, and I got a bullet in my shoulder from the second fight - although he claimed that he hadn't meant to hit me that time. But after that, well, I kind of started to think of it as playing tag with rocket launchers.  
"Woo!" I yelled as I sprinted around the corner of the RED base, laughing as a rocket missed me by a mile and making a beeline through the open doorway. The temperature dropped almost ten degrees once I got out of the sun, and like a machine, I automatically went for the main hall and towards the Intel room, slowing when I heard footsteps approaching. Turning a corner, I lifted by pistol and stared straight into the face of the RED Pyro's flamethrower.  
I heard a light giggle from under the mask before I was blasted off of my feet by a compression blast, the heat blinding me for a second as I hit the ground, flat on my back. I coughed, laying still for a minute as the Pyro knelt down, poked me in the chest, and said, "Yrr it." He then laughed, stood up, and ran out out the way I had come in.  
I stood up, aching from the force of the blast and my rough landing, and wiped the sweat from my forehead, momentarily leaning against wall to catch my breath before moving back to my task at hand. Everyone knew that the intel wouldn't do a damn good for anyone to get any intel, but hey, this was a game, wasn't it?  
Why not act like it?

My hands were inches from the briefcase when the Announcer's voice proclaimed a victory message. I nearly jumped, a brief thought of 'What the hell?' running through my head before I realized where I was, and who the Announcer was talking to. I swore under my breath and made a bee-line to the exit.  
But as I was heading for the main entrance, I saw the RED Spy turn the corner. Smirking, I picked up my pace and reached into my pocket.  
As I passed him, I pulled out the picture of my mom and pressed it to his chest.  
His mouth opened slightly, but I was gone before he could respond to my little return gift to him.

~x~

"A picture of your muzzer?" Spy mixed together some ingredients in what he called a 'terrinée' bowl and crossed over to put it into the oven, along with eight others just like it. "Why would zee Red Spy 'ave a picture of 'er?"  
"No idea." I was sitting on the counter, next to various wrappers and scraps of spare food. "Hey, yanno what I just realized?"  
"Hmm?"  
"This is the first time I've seen ya cook somethin' besides fish."  
Spy chuckled, stretching slightly. "Eet ees, ah, part of zee culture. At least, where I am from."  
"Take it ya get a lotta fish there?"  
"Classified information, _mon petit_." He paused, then looked at me and gave a one-sided smirk. "But oui."  
I snickered, more out of surprise than anything else. "Didn't think ya'd actually tell me." I then paused, his words sinking in for a good second "And I have a nickname now? Careful, someone might think you like me."  
"God forbid," he said, spreading his hands.  
I laughed, swinging my legs. "So, what'cha makin' anyway?"  
"_Teurgoule_. Rice pudding. Eet takes a few 'ours to cook, which is why we're doing zees now."  
"Can't remember the last time someone actually made a dessert... wait. Has anyone actually made dessert since we've been here?"  
"I do not zeenk so. A first time for everyzeeng, no?"

Everyone, some reluctantly, agreed with Sniper's idea to make - of all awesome things - kangaroo roast for dinner. And he made it good, too. "D'you make this a lot?" Engineer asked, dark blue eyes squinted slightly.  
"When Oi can," Sniper said, shrugging. "Kangaroos are roight bloody complicated t'get to, though. Bastards'll kick ye t'death."  
I wanted to laugh, but somehow knew better than to.

Demoman invited some of us to play poker after dessert, but passed out about half-way through the game, leaving just me, Spy, Heavy, and Medic. It was about midnight, and we were heading back to our rooms when Heavy grabbed Medic's arm and pulled him close. Medic squeaked in surprise, causing Spy and I to look back. "Heavy, vhat is...?"  
"Bad feeling, doktor," Heavy said, turning to look back at the way we had just come from.  
"What's up?"  
"Do not know. _Опасность_," he muttered, firmly clutching Medic's shoulder with one hand and making a fist with the other. "Keep one eye open tonight, _товарищи_." And with that, he led Medic, who looked utterly confused, into the infirmary.  
"What was that about?" I asked, looking at Spy. "Can you translate?"  
Spy shrugged, looking apologetic. "I never learned Russian, sadly. But 'e ees right." His expression darkened, and he looked in the same direction as Heavy had. "The air tonight... eet's different. Stay on your toes, Bryan."  
"You, too." I watched him continue down the hall and disappear into his room, sniffling slightly. Nothing seemed that different to me; I could hear snoring from Soldier's room, and Sniper's room was empty. I just couldn't feel anything foreboding in the air. I shook my head and went into my room, ready to just brush of my teammate's paranoia, but after changing and settling in bed, my eyes refused to close for more than a minute. "Chalk it up to my late-night insomnia binges," I said to myself, turning on my side and facing the wall. And after about half an hour, I finally managed to pass out.  
I kept waking up throughout the night to the most random shit, like wind howling outside of my window, or hearing footsteps in the hallway. But what was more insane was the fact that I had to keep convincing myself that it was nothing before I could fall back asleep. Eventually, I got up to get a glass of water, to see if it would help me sleep, and toyed with the notion of asking Medic for something to help. I even went up to the door to his office (the infirmary itself didn't have a door, just an open archway), but I stopped just short of knocking before I turned and sulked back to my room and ended up passing out after another fifteen minutes.

I was jerked from sleep by a hand clamping over my mouth and nose. Opening my eyes, I cried out in surprise to see a figure dressed completely in black leaning over me, eyes shielded by some kind of reflective material. I kicked and pounded at him until his grip loosened just enough that I could slip out, sliding out of my bed and grabbing my bat from next to my dresser. "Who the fuck are you?" I yelled, more than aware that I looked less than threatening in just my boxers.  
The other man copied my stance, pulling out some weird baton thing. Lifting up the visor covering his eyes, he looked at me with shockingly familiar eyes and said, in a voice that echoed mine eerily, "Your replacement."

I stared at him for a good minute. "What the hell're ya talkin' about?"  
He chuckled, twirling the baton like a freakin' ninja and striking out at me, lightning-fast. I yelped and crossed my bat to block it, and we ended up having some kind of duel that ended with him shoving me against the wall and holding his baton against my throat. While I was choking, he leaned in, and the grin he was wearing was clear in his eyes. "C'mon. Ya wanted this ta end, right? You can leave the fightin' to me. Resistance is futile, kid."  
I struggled, choking as the pressure against my neck increased. "I... will _not_... die... listenin' to..." I bent my leg at the knee and kneed him right between his legs. As he staggered back, I kicked him onto the floor, threw my bat to the side, and jumped onto his chest before I started whaling on him. "A fuckin' _Star Trek_ quote!" I screamed, feeling all of the anger that I had locked away as a kid. I felt his nose break after a few punches, but I just kept swinging at him, my vision red.  
"Scout! _Scout_!" Shouts preceded hands grabbing my arms and tugging me away from the man on the floor. I kicked to get away at first, but when I managed to get free, I twirled around to see Soldier and Engineer. Soldier was holding his hands up in a gesture that indicated no intention to harm, his mouth set in a grim line. But it was Engineer's expression that got to me the most.

He looked absolutely _terrified_. The way he stepped back and just stared at me, eyes wide, finally made me lower my bloodied fists. "Jesus," he muttered, looking at the floor behind me. I turned to see what he was looking at, and felt everything go numb.  
The guy in black was lying still, blood pooling around his head. He was either unconscious or dead, and the way he was sprawled on the floor highly suggested the latter. "C'mon," Soldier said, tentatively grabbing my arm. "Get dressed. We need to go."  
I got changed in record time, got my guns in their holsters, and grabbed my bat from its discarded position on the floor, still in a daze. Did I just _kill_ someone?

It was anarchy in the hallway. There was another man in black, this one much bulkier than the guy that I'd fought, slumped against the wall, clearly dead. Soldier cocked his shotgun and led the way to the entrance of the fort. "They're everywhere; guess HQ finally got sick of starin' at us." He smirked dryly before becoming serious again. "Demoman's at the entrance. He's got sticky bombs set up; when everyone's out, he's setting them off," he said, purpose in his stride.  
"What about the others?"  
"That's where you come in. We're gonna split up, round up the others, then go..." He paused, obviously struggling to throw out, "Help the folks over at the RED base."  
I looked back to Engineer, who avoided my eyes, and my heart sunk slightly. I hadn't told anyone about how violent my past had been, or about my slight issue with anger; it had never really come up, but it was probably still something that should have been brought up. Besides, my life had been in danger, it was self-defense.  
But no matter how much I tried to convince myself, I just didn't believe it. I'd killed someone with my bare hands.  
Demoman was pressed against a wall when we finally reached him, peering out into the hallway. "Saw another'o them doon that hall," he said, gesturing in the direction he was looking in. "Cannae tell if he's gone, though."  
"Alright, you and me'll go that way. Scout, Engie, head for the infirmary and see if the doc's okay."

I nodded, looking at both of them. "Be careful out there," I said, drawing out my pistol and heading back towards the infirmary, Engineer hesitantly in tow.


	12. RED Plus BLU

A/N: Hmm. So, I'm thinking that maybe, I should actually get people to beta-read this stuff.  
Disclaimer, I don't own anything except the representation of the characters. (Speaking of which, I regret nothing for this chapter. I swear that I'll come up for a good backstory for doing what I did, but if it bothers too many people, let me know.)

* * *

The awkward silence was killing me. Finding most of the other guys' rooms empty, there wasn't much talking between Engineer and I. As we headed for the infirmary, I finally cleared my throat and said, "I'm, uh... really sorry you had ta see that."  
He was quiet for a second before stating, quietly, "Y'beat a man t'death, Scout. With yer_ hands_. I've never seen you that angry."  
"Ya shoulda seen me as a kid." I chuckled weakly, slowing down but not looking at him. "Yeah, I've got some anger issues, but I'm good now. It's just... he freaked me out, and he was gonna kill me."  
Engineer nodded towards the slumped-over body we'd passed earlier. "Guess I can't blame you. Solly pretty much did the same thing - except, y'know."  
"There's no blood on his hands." Before I could add, 'not literally, anyway', I stepped into the open doorway leading into the infirmary.

I heard quiet, rapid firing and hit the deck, rolling off behind the wall and waiting until the noise stopped. Once it did, I looked up to see syringes sticking out of the wall. "Jesus!" I scrambled to my feet and peeked back into the doorway.  
Medic was kneeling on the floor, his syringe gun aimed in my direction. He had obviously received the same rude awakening as me, since he was only wearing pants, and he wasn't wearing his glasses, his eyes clear, tired, and angry. "Doc, relax, it's -" I cut myself short once I took in the reason he was on the floor. "...me."  
Laying with his head propped on Medic's knee was Heavy, an apparent gunshot wound on his chest. He cracked open one eye at the sound of my voice and reached out to touch Medic's hand. "Is only Scout," he said, pushing Medic's hand down until the syringe gun touched the floor.  
Medic blinked, then used his now-free hand to run through his hair. "_Mein Gott_," he breathed, his voice shaky. "_Es tut mir lied_, Scout, I..."  
"It's alright. Engie's behind me. What happened here?" I entered the room, with Engineer timidly following.  
"I should ask you zhe same zhing! Heavy came out heah to see vhat vas goingk on, and got shot. I managed to hit one of zhose men," he said, looking down and gingerly touching wound, causing Heavy to flinch slightly.  
"We dunno what's up, but we think that HQ has somethin' ta do with it." As I talked, I crossed over and grabbed a first-aid kit from a shelf nearby, handing it to Medic. "Probably won't do much, but..."  
"It is bettah zhen nozhing." He took the kit and started cleaning and bandaging the wound. "It vas a zhrough-und-zhrough. You got lucky, _meine liebe_."  
"Am strong like bull," Heavy said, chuckling and slowly sitting up.  
"Demo and Soldier are at the entrance, said ta get everyone out so we can go help the REDs. Will youse guys be alright?"  
"Ve can take care of ourselves, but I vant to make sure zhere is no extensive damage." Medic helped Heavy to his feet and led him to a cot. "Zhis should not take too long, but you should go und get everyvone else first."  
"Lemme build a sentry here, it'll help y'out," Engineer said, surprising me. He brushed past me and opened up his toolbox, which I had just noticed he had. "Might take a few minutes. Scout, keep a lookout?"  
"Sure thing." Instinctively, I made sure my pistol was loaded before moving to stand against the wall, peeking out into the hallway every now and then. I still kind of shaky, and jumped at every shadow that I thought moved, muttering to myself under the clanking of Engineer building. After a little more than eight minutes, he finished and got all of his stuff back together. "That should hold y'all. Scout."  
I was out the door before he could finish the order.

"You need more metal?" I asked as we approached the storeroom that held all of the scrap metal for his projects.  
He shook his head, his posture relaxing slightly. "I should be fine. Let's check out the locker rooms, see if anyone's hidin' out in there."  
"Good idea." I turned to locker room door and gently nudged it open, aiming my gun when I saw someone standing in the center of the room. I quickly relaxed when I saw that it was Spy, and exhaled loudly. "There you are." I started to walk over to him, smiling. "Look, we gotta -"

I was cut off by him grabbing my arm, twisting me around and pulling me to him, the words dying on my lips at the feel of cold metal against my neck. Engineer dropped his toolbox and drew his own pistol, but Spy just twisted his knife, knicking my skin in the process. "Gotcha."  
I closed my eyes, mentally berating myself for falling for such an obvious trap. Pulling me backwards, he drew his revolver and pointed it at Engineer as another man in black, a man built the same as Medic, emerged from the shadows, bone saw in hand. For a minute, everything was silent; I was considering making a break for it by stepping on my captor's toes or elbowing him in the stomach or something when his arm suddenly jerked and he pulled the trigger.  
"No!" I cried, lurching forward and feeling myself get cut again before I stopped.

The Medic-built man stood still for a moment before falling to the floor, blood pooling from under him. "Wha..." Suddenly, the knife was gone, and I was free.  
Turning around, I stared at Spy as he wiped his knife on his suit jacket and shrugged. "I may 'ave lied when I said I was on 'is side."  
I stared at him for a good second. Then, before I could stop myself, I slapped him right across the face.  
He reeled for a second, stunned, before touching his cheek and looking at me, his eyes strangely understanding. "That was a dirty trick. Good, but dirty," I hissed before turning around and heading out of the locker room.

I was halfway down the hall by the time either of them caught up with me. Ignoring the stinging in my neck, I kept my pistol in front of me at all times, trying to get the pounding in my head to stop. Anger was kinda like a drug to me; once I felt it, anything could set me back off. The fact that Spy had just had a knife to my throat was probably 'anything' times about five.  
Pyro was holed up in another closet, a flare gun in hand. When he saw us, he simply sighed and came out, muttering to himself in Chinese. "Alright, now we jes' gotta find Sniper," Engineer said, looking between me and Spy.  
"'e would probably be in 'is camper," Spy said carefully, and I could feel his eyes on me. I looked at him and nodded, stepping back.  
"Let's get Pyro's shit first, then go find him." I didn't even blink at the the look the others gave me from swearing so needlessly, and hung in the back of the group, keeping an eye out for any of the ninja-assassin men or whatever they were - replacements.  
Turns out that we didn't need to go find Sniper; he found us, mowing down Spy's replacement with his SMG and not even pausing as he took of his hat and pressed it to his chest while Pyro slid his mask on. "This everyone?" He asked.  
"Yeah. Medic and Heavy are in the infirmary, we need to get them on the way back."  
So we went, a rag-tag group of five that jumped at shadows and were silent, save for incoming warnings. Medic's posture immediately stiffened when we came to get him and Heavy, as though he could pick up on how negative we all were - hell, he probably could. I briefly remembered how disturbed he had seemed when I'd talked to him, then immediately dismissed the memory to lead everyone to the entrance. Heavy walked a bit slower than usual, lines of pain in his forehead as he carried Sasha.  
"Took ya long enough," Soldier said as we approached, a cigar clenched between his teeth.  
Before I could say anything, Medic stepped in. "Heavy vas injahed, und I had to patch him up." He looked at me, then did a double-take. "Herr Scout, you ah bleedingk."  
"Yeah, don't remind me," I muttered under my breath.

Once we were a good distance from the base, Demoman said, "Roight. This'll just blow oot the entrance, so f'ye got anythin' in there ye wanna get, it'll be foine. Ready?"  
Everyone nodded, and Demoman hit the trigger of the detonator he held in his hand, yelling "Ka-BOOM!" just as the bombs exploded. Everyone but him covered their ears as the ground rumbled while he just took a drink from a hip flask.  
"Split up, help who you can!" Soldier barked before cocking his shotgun running inside, with Demoman giving a battle cry and following.  
Medic put a hand on Heavy's shoulder and asked, "Do you zhink you can fight, _meine liebe_?"  
"Heh." Heavy hoisted Sasha up, face hardening. "Is notink. Let's move."  
Engineer and Pyro went inside next, and Sniper quietly disappeared, probably to find a good sniping position, so I motioned for Spy to lead the way. "I suppose apologizing will not 'elp you forgive me," he said quietly as he cautiously stepped into the RED base.  
"I already forgave ya. I was just kinda mad you, y'know, had a knife to my throat." I holstered my pistol and took out my Scattergun. "Besides, uh... I got shit on my mind."  
"Do I want to know?" I hesitated before telling him about the fate of my replacement. "_Mon dieu_," he muttered, pausing to look me in the eyes. "Eet could not be 'elped. I probably would 'ave done zee same."  
"Guess I'm kinda like the Hulk; you wouldn't like me when I'm angry," I said, relieved slightly when Spy chuckled.  
"I'll be sure to be careful zhen, Docteur Banner," he said as he aimed his revolver around the corner, relaxing when he didn't see anyone.

A scream that was cut off as suddenly as it started scared the crap out of both of us, and we rushed to the nearest room to find the RED Medic standing with a foot on the chest of a MIB (man in black), pistol aimed at the his head. "_Auf wiedersehen_," he said cheerfully as he pulled the trigger, smoothing out his hair and turning to us. "Vell, vhat a pleasant surprise."  
I eyed the MIB warily before responding with, "Yeah, well, an alliance is an alliance, right? How youse guys doin' over here?"  
"Ve lost our Soldier." His demeanor darkened slightly, and he sighed, touching his forehead in salute. "But ozzahvise, everyzhingk's undah control." There was another scream, and I twirled around to see a body go flying down the hallway. The RED Medic craned his neck to see just as the RED Pyro ran after. "See? Undah control."  
Given the inappropriate timing of the situation, I couldn't help but start to laugh. "We cannot stay 'ere," Spy said sternly, causing me to wipe my face with my arm and calm down. "We need to get everyone out and figure out where to go from zhere."  
"Good plan. So tell me... who wants ta spoil Pyro's party?"

The RED Pyro waved at me as I came up to relay the plan. "Btt its jsst gttn gdd!" He protested.  
"Yeah, well, wouldja rather get the guys who started this, or run outta fuel fightin' these guys?" I gestured to the MIB lying on the floor, moaning.  
Absently, the Pyro turned and shot him in the face with his flare gun before sighing. "Fnn. I'll cmm wth yuu." Not giving me any time to protest, he grabbed my wrist and started dragging me through the hallways. "Nnginnrr's up nn thh bssmnnt," he said, pulling me and talking so fast that I could barely understand what he was saying - well, any more than I could before. Something about his voice seemed really weird, though...  
The sound of Spy uncloaking had the Pyro lifting up his flare gun again, but I managed to stop him before he fired. "You took off before I could tell you zhe plan." His eyes wandered downwards, resting on the Pyro's hand around my wrist, and his eyebrow quirked slightly as he continued. "We need to get everyone out. Zhere is an abandoned town roughly nine miles from 'ere."  
"We're gonna make a break for it?"  
"Ouias. Eef I 'eard you correctly, your Engineer ees in zee basement?" The RED Pyro nodded. "Zat will be our first desintation, zen."  
"No, it really won't." A gunshot ricocheted off of the Pyro's breathing canisters, springing a leak in it.  
"_Gii ssekki_!" He yelled, turning away to tend to it while Spy and I simultaneously pulled out our weapons. But before either of us could fire, there was a clatter and a blast as the Pyro fired his flare gun at the Engineer-statured man standing at the end of the hallway.  
"Nice shot," I said, turning to him. But what I saw made me stop in my tracks.

The RED Pyro was a fucking girl.

Her dark brown eyes were narrowed, blackish-brown hair messy as she spat on the ground and snarled, "_Horo ja shik_."  
By this point, Spy had also turned, and currently had his mouth open by just a fraction as he stared at her. She looked at the both of us, touched her face, and paled slightly before clearing her throat and standing up straight. "What? You've never seen a woman before?"


	13. Abandonment

A/N: I've gots me a beta reader. :D And thanks to her, this chapter is much, much better than what I originally had. PLOT PROGRESSION IS GO.  
In other news, Orchard Park is a real town. I'm serious, it has it's own page on the Ghost Town database.

* * *

I was still at a loss for words as the RED Pyro picked up her mask and examined it, a frown on her face. "Punctured. Looks like I'm going fire-less." She holstered her flare gun and unhooked the fire axe that had been sitting on her back. She turned a bit to look at us before taking off a glove and tucking it temporarily under her arm along with the axe. Then she pulled the rubber band keeping her hair in a messy ponytail out and slid it on her wrist. Putting her glove back on, she faced us, weapon in hand. "For all our sakes, I hope you can aim."  
"Yeah, we're good – 'specially this guy," I said, jerking a thumb in Spy's direction. His mask of indifference broke slightly as he jumped, looking at me before relaxing. Apparently, he wasn't the only one surprised at this little twist of identity.  
"Good. Let's go." She brushed past us in a tempered stride, clearly annoyed at our situation and even more determined to finish it.

"I, uh, thought you were a guy," I said lamely as we followed; as if that would explain my sudden awkwardness.  
"Good. If I ever become an actress, I'll have to look you up as a reference," she sneered, flicking her eyes over to me for a brief look, but her expression softened slightly, and I could've sworn she actually winked at me. "Really, though, I'm glad I was convincing."  
"Did RED not want to 'ire a woman, or...?"  
"Oh, no. I just didn't want to be 'the girl', you know? And if I didn't tell them, then they'd just think I was one of the guys." She shrugged, tucking hair behind her ear. "But we can talk about gender equality later, let's hurry up." The firm, dominant tone in her voice was completely unfitting for the pretty features of her face, and she walked with a swagger that reminded me of my oldest brother, Kevin - 'I'm smarter than you, so don't fuck with me'. Her voice carried only the slightest bit of an accent; identifying her as a second-generation... whatever she was.  
We met Medic and Heavy on the way down to the basement, and they had the RED Engineer in tow. The poor guy looked half-startled to death; either from the MIB or being dragged around by BLU team members, but he took the RED Pyro's mask as she handed it to him and looked it over as we went. "Not much I can do on the go," he told her, eyes darting back and forth behind his goggles as he handed the piece of her uniform back.  
When we met up with the RED Medic in the Intelligence Room, Heavy took the opportunity to lean against the wall while Medic checked his chest wound. "Take it easy," he reminded the other gently, smiling one of those weary, comforting smiles as he peeled away the bandages.

"So, about this town..." I said, slowly lifting up the microphone on my headset; I'd told the rest of the team about our location, and had settled on watching the RED Engineer about to put up a sentry before the RED Pyro stopped him, pointing out that they were still programmed to attack our team. I looked up at Spy when he started to speak.  
"Oui. Sniper passed eet on 'is way 'ere. 'e did not get much information, but 'e said eet was abandoned." As though just remembering he had them, Spy pulled out his cigarette case and lit up, tilting his head away from me in favor of staring at the doorway. He was listening for footsteps, I knew, so I didn't say anything else.  
Engineer and the RED Scout were the first to show up, with Engie regarding his RED counterpart with a tip of his helmet and a smile. "Hey, maybe you two could make some adjustments to sentries, see if you can just get them to shoot those MIBs," I suggested.  
"MIBs?" Medic echoed, looking over his shoulder at me.  
"Ah, men in black. Seems like an appropriate name."  
The RED Scout snickered, giving me a thumbs up.  
Within the two minutes that it took the others to get to us, the Engineers had figured out what to change in the schematics to get the sentries not to identify by color. Engie started trying to explain the process, but I can honestly say that most of it went over my head. Once everyone was in the Intelligence room, Spy took to explaining the plan, looking to Sniper for verification at some points.  
"So, you're sure this town's abandoned?" Soldier asked Sniper, who was casually cleaning blood off his kukri.  
"Yep. Least, it looked loike."  
"Alright. So, we should probably grab supplies. We blew out the entrance to our base - figured it would get some of these creeps off our tail, but we still just had a shipment, right?" At this, our Demoman inched away to lean against a corner and take another drink from his hip flask.  
The RED Engineer nodded. "We have plenty of supplies that weren't loaded in the bases… but how will we carry them?"  
"I can carry stuff in my campah," Sniper said. "Not exactly practical, but it'll work, roight?" The Engineer nodded, satisfied.  
"Alright. Scouts," I turned my head to Soldier, who had taken up his natural position of trying to order everyone around. "Go with Sniper and get that. We'll get supplies."  
The RED Scout and I looked at each other and, after a moment of regard, we both nodded. As we left, the RED Heavy turned to us and said, "_Fa'afualoa, uo_."  
"What'd he say?" I asked the RED Scout as I grabbed my scattergun and checked to make sure it was loaded.  
"No idea." I raised an eyebrow, and he rolled his shoulders and started rubbing his nose. "He's from Samoa, I think. Not exactly a language I took time to study."  
Thankfully, Sniper's camper had been mainly untouched; the MIB's either didn't know it was there, or just assumed that they could take that over once we were gone. It was unlocked, so Sniper went in first, kukri in hand. After a minute, he gave us the all-clear, and we followed him in. It was a bit cramped on the inside; there was a couch against the wall behind the driver's seat, and a small, built-in bed in the back, blankets thrown everywhere. Next to the couch was a table, and behind one of the booth seats was a compact refrigerator. Everything was in warm colors, and while it wasn't the cleanest, it did feel homier than the plain concrete dorms the rest of the team lived in.  
"Well, you can definitely tell that this is a one-man setup," I commented, taking a seat on the couch as Sniper climbed into the driver's seat.  
The RED Scout had wandered to the refrigerator and opened it. Almost immediately, he jumped away. "Dude!" He yelled.  
I looked up. "What?"  
"What the hell is in those jars?" He turned to Sniper.  
I could see his smirk in the rearview mirror as I leaned forward. "Nothin' ye need te know 'bout," he replied smoothly, turning the wheel just hard enough to make the RED Scout stumble. I snickered as my counterpart righted himself and sat next to me, but I couldn't help feeling a bit uneasy.

We pulled up behind the RED base, and the other Scout (who was still eyeing Sniper warily) and I jumped out to grab the others. Once all the supplies were loaded in, Sniper poked his head out. "If ye can foind a place he'll fit, I can take Heavy - he looks loike he could use a break." Medic immediately broke into a grateful smile.  
"Looks like we're walkin', then. Unless you can come back and pick us up once you've unloaded," I said, stretching. The sun was high in the sky, but I figured it would be dark by the time we were all in town.  
"How about ve do bozh?" The RED Medic said, tucking his pistol into a holster around his waist. "Ve staht valkinkg, und he can pick us up vhen he drops everyzhingk off."  
"Sounds like a plan," Soldier agreed, nodding at Sniper and saluting him with a single finger. "Be careful." Sniper returned the salute and retreated into the camper, the engine roaring to life not even a minute later.  
I groaned as he drove away, sliding my headset down off my ears and removing my hat to wipe the sweat from my forehead, the tribulation of walking in the desert at high noon finally sinking in. "How long would nine miles take to walk?"  
"Eef we go at a moderate pace -" I jumped at the unexpected sound of the RED Spy's voice, and spun around, relaxing when I saw him leaning against a wall, looking at the sky. "Probably... a little more zan two 'ours."  
"Plus, we're going to be getting some rain," the RED Sniper said, pointing to a few dark clouds in the distance. "So it won't be too unbearable."  
I mentally steeled myself. "Great. Let's get going."

The rain hit us about half an hour into traveling, which only helped the heat slightly. It was warmed by the dry air, making the moisture more like added sweat on us. During that time, no one had really said anything. Then again, what could we say to what had just happened? Being kicked out of the place that had been our home for these past two months wasn't exactly inspiring. But eventually, the RED Scout started whistling 'Hey Jude', and one by one, everyone else joined in, gradually evolving into singing; by the time we were halfway through the song, it was a train of roughly twelve (the RED Heavy didn't know the words) men and a woman singing The Beatles.  
After both of the Pyros started up 'These Boots Are Made for Walking', Spy wandered over to me, shoving his cloaking watch into his pocket. "Are you alright?" He asked, his blue suit looking black from the rain and the darkness.  
"Yeah. Just tired." I looked up and took off my hat again, letting my hair get soaked by the rain. The starting mist from the storm had begun to give way to heavier drops, giving a better sanctuary from the heat and improving my mood. "How about you?"  
"Wet." His eyes and mouth tugged downwards as he glared at the wet sand caking around the legs of his pants. "BLU owes me a new suit."  
I chuckled through closed lips and nudged him with an elbow. "It'll brush off when it dries," He tilted his chin and stared at the sky with the same irritated expression – he might've tried to say something else, but I added, "-And it's not every day you get to walk in a desert."  
"Een the rain."  
"In the rain."  
"Weez a chorus line." He lowered his gaze and waved a hand to the RED Medic, who was taking on an impromptu solo. The sight was so unusual – like something from a drug induced dream. My lips turned up and I showed my teeth in a grin so huge it hurt my cheeks. I decided to abandon the smile and just start laughing.  
"At least it's something to do," I replied when I could keep a plain face. I turned to the RED Sniper. "Hey, you got a time?"  
He looked at his watch, and then back at me, eyes narrowed slightly through his shades. "Five-thirty."  
I blinked. "It's that late already?" The sun was hidden behind the rain clouds, so any acknowledgment of passing time was lost to me.  
"Time flies," he said mildly, turning his head to stare in the other direction.

Another half an hour passed, and some of us cheered when we saw Sniper's camper heading in our direction. We took a break to figure out who absolutely couldn't walk any further and let them take the easy way out by getting a ride to the town, which he had found out was called Orchard Park. The RED Medic stiffened slightly at the name. "Vasn't zhat..."  
"A POW camp," Soldier finished, lifting his helmet to peer at the sky. The rain was lightening once more, and we could see white clouds coming our way. "Closed down now, if I remember right. Anyways, Scouts, think you can manage to run the rest of the way?"  
The RED Scout snorted incredulously, but eyed me before saying, "Sure. How much further?" I could hear the underlying challenge in his tone; I caught my second wind at the very idea of a race.  
"You're about halfway there. Shouldn't take too long, but someone else moight have to come with ye. Oi don't think I have room f'r all'a ye."  
"I'll walk with 'em 'f ye get me a drink," Demoman offered, cracking a smile. Spy and I stared at each other.  
"Couldn't you just come back for them?" the RED Pyro asked, leaning against wall of the camper. Spy looked expectantly at Soldier for an answer.  
"I think we should be fine." I reassured after a pause. She turned back to me. "Don't wantcha wastin' gas."  
Soldier nodded. "I'll walk with them, too. Either of you care to join us, just in case?" I looked at Spy's pants; they were still dirty, and I inwardly winced when I thought of walking nine miles in dress shoes. Well made or not, the trek was hard on even my feet. I shuffled a bit closer to him and muttered, "You should go with Sniper. I'll be fine." I backed up again, not giving Spy the chance to argue. I turned back to concentrate on the back of Soldier's head, who had since turned to face both Medics, asking if they could manage the hike.  
The BLU Medic bit his lip, turning to look at Heavy, I assumed. After a few quiet words, he bobbed his head in agreement and stood. "I vill."  
"Sorry, kid. Looks like you get to live on the other side for a while," Soldier told the RED Scout, chuckling.  
"I'm not a kid," he protested. The remaining team filed into the van. Spy watched me once more, but I didn't meet his gaze. He stepped inside, holding onto the back doors and studying my face for a few seconds. "Be careful," I heard him say softly, before closing the door. And again, I watched Sniper drive off.

We outran Medic, Demoman, and Soldier most of the time. Of course, we were both better at short sprinting than constantly running for miles, so we needed to stop at points and catch our breath now and then. At the last half mile, we all walked together as a group, and managed to make it to the town at around seven thirty, according to the RED Sniper's watch.  
"You think we're that safe?" I looked out the window of the place we'd occupied to the road. Everyone had holed up in the main building we were in; a large house that was only slightly falling apart. We all planned to move to more suitable and roomier spaces around the town when we knew it was safe. For now, the lot of us lingered on the first floor; the open rooms connecting the kitchen, foyer, and parlor without walls.  
"I doubt people'll drive by jes' to make sure it's abandoned," Engineer said, looking up from the sentry he and his RED counterpart were building.  
Soldier looked up from his spot on one of the sprawled wooden tables. "He has a point, though. This place has only been abandoned for a few years, if I'm right," he interjected before going back to his soup. The REDs had been smart enough to grab the meal and silverware, at least.  
"Let's 'ope zat sey assume we are ghosts," the RED Spy said. It sounded like a joke, but he didn't crack a smile. Instead he had removed his mask and tossed it on a crate we'd dragged in from outside, running a hand through his brown, only slightly-graying hair. He was handsome, in a rugged and worn sense; like a man who had seen a lot in his life, and had probably done even more. He caught me looking at him and finally smiled - in a tired sense.  
Eventually, Spy removed his mask, too, and placed it on the same crate, lighting up another cigarette. The RED Scout chose to stay outside, since the rain had stopped, and I could see him practice his swing with the RED Demoman through the open window. "Uh..." I stuttered once. After looking closer, I realized that the RED Demoman was actually throwing _grenades_ for the Scout to hit. "I-is that a smart idea?" I tilted my head and weakly pointed at the two  
"Zhey do zhat all zhe time," the RED Medic said dismissively. "Und no vone has blown up yet."  
"_Yet_," I said pointedly, but he only waved his hand.

The next few minutes passed in silence, much like the walk to Orchard Park; no one felt like mentioning the Men in Black, or the fact that we were working together in anything more than a quick, passing comment. It was as if we were all just expected to go along with the whole thing. Of course, I was just as hesitant to bring up the topic as everyone else probably was. Sitting by Soldier – who had by now finished his soup and was merely looking around our new home – I laid my head down. I figured a fifteen minute chance to close my eyes couldn't hurt, and maybe then I would will myself to talk to Spy… Hell, maybe even _RED_ Spy, too – who knew what could happen in fifteen minutes?  
But before I managed to drown out the background noise of others talking, or a sentry gun beeping in test fire, I heard the rapid steps of shoes that mimicked my own. I saw the RED Scout run through the doorway, his relaxed face now taut and ashen. My stomach clenched and I grabbed my bat from my knapsack. "We've got company," he said nervously, wringing his shirt in his hands, peering behind himself twice as he tried to calm himself. "And you're not gonna believe who it is." By now, everyone had entered the room: Both Snipers looked just as anxious – they might have seen the person coming in from the windows, and the RED Demoman's face looked like a bust instead of skin.  
The clicking of heels on the front steps, and then on the wooden floor signified her entrance: A woman, dressed in a navy blue pin-striped jacket and matching skirt. Her skin was a natural shade of tan, and only light wrinkles gave away her age. Pursing her purple-stained lips, she looked over each and every one of us before flicking black bangs from her eyes with a twist of her neck. "Well. I can honestly say that I'm surprised so many of you survived. Bravo." She spread her lips over her sharp teeth and bared a sickening smile down on all of us.  
My eyes stared and my mouth went slack. I couldn't blink, and the woman's voice had my ears ringing as I recognized it; the same voice that had been yelling at us for over two months - informing both teams of her disappointment from the very beginning.


	14. Truth

A/N: Talking! Plot! _Drama_! I... really crawled through this one, but here we go. Main plots are so much fun.  
That sound you hear? That's the sound of the canon-verse SHATTERING.

* * *

Soldier stood up so quickly that the chair he'd been sitting in fell backwards with a thud! The sudden shattering of silence left everyone with hot skin as our hearts hammered away in our chests. Scooping up his shotgun from the floor, he cocked it before pointing it at the Announcer. "What the hell are you doing here?" He barked; anxiety flowed into his voice.  
The Announcer took a step back, momentarily startled as well. She quickly regained her footing and narrowed her eyes once more. "Weapons away," she snapped back, giving Soldier a clear, irritated look. "You'll never get anywhere in life if you point a gun at everyone you meet."  
He slowly lowered his gun, but kept it in hand. "You are preaching to the choir, pumpkin."  
She shook her head. "I'm starting to think that hiring a bunch of random people and giving them weapons of destruction was a bad idea."  
"_Startin_' to?" I asked, smirking for a brief second. "Answer the question."

The Announcer put a hand to her forehead dramatically. "Oh, where are the manners anymore?" But before I could add in a snarky 'Please', she had taken a seat, motioning for everyone to do the same. Her eyes wandered around the room, flicking to all the different faces before she spoke again. "I suppose I should give credit where it is due; good call on the hiding spot. I had a hell of a time trying to find you." She crossed her legs under the table and clasped her hands on her knee, back straight. "A bit curious how you're planning on living here, though. There's no running water or electricity."  
"We're not gonna live out here," Engineer said, his face unusually hard as he regarded the new addition to our already crowded household. "It's temporary."  
"Besides, there's an outhouse a few houses down," Pyro added, kind of sheepishly.  
Her eyes clicked back over to him, disgust rippling over her features. "Really." Clearing her throat, she broke her posture to prop an elbow on the table. "What are you planning to do? If you go anywhere - if you talk to anyone about what has happened out here…" She left the threat hang in open air. "Not to mention that both your companies are more than prepared to make a few little phone calls expressing condolences for your families' losses. You'll be ghosts."  
"Fuck that shit!" the RED Scout blurted, leaning forward from his spot on an abandoned couch. "They can't do that!"  
"Yes," The Announcer assured the other with a sharp look and tone to match. "They can. I doubt any of you have full knowledge of what their grasp on the world is," she said with a casual shrug as if she was a normal person asking if we wanted coffee.  
"What's that supposed to mean?" The RED Sniper leaned against the wall, regarding her with cool eyes. He didn't seem particularly bothered, and his mouth quirked as though he was waiting for the punch line of a joke.  
The Announcer paused before leaning even farther forward, her dominant presence faltering. "I'll be completely honest with you here: I'm breaking protocol right now. If they found out what I was doing here, I'd be taken to the nearest dump site and executed." Her voice had quieted, and we all strained our ears to listen. She sounded as if she was waiting to spill a terrible secret. The words played on her tongue before she formed another sentence. "Contrary to what you might believe, I am not the enemy here."  
The RED Pyro snorted incredulously, her expression still a bit unsure. "Says the chick who yelled at us all the time to kill one another."  
"I'll give you that one." The Announcer smiled drily before she uncrossed her legs, shifted, and crossed them again in the opposite direction. Her voice didn't get much louder, but the seriousness of her voice almost made me want to believe her. "With that warning in place, I suppose I should be brief: the companies that contracted you all have a certain way of doing things; usually, conflicts can be solved with a little paperwork and a meeting. But the leaders of the companies... well, they're brothers."  
"...Brothers?" Soldier echoed, hand resting on his helmet on the table.  
"Yes; Redmond and Blutarch Mann. Both extremely old; both extremely bitter." The Announcer paused to take out and light a black, new-looking cigarette holder, that glinted in the limited light. "So, if problems aren't solved passively, they have no qualms about starting miniature wars."  
"Well, if they fight so much, why don't they just wipe each other out?" The RED Engineer asked, wringing the denim of his overalls in his hands.  
The Announcer grinned; her mouth had too many teeth, all as white as the tip of the holder that held her cigarette. "That's where it gets interesting. They _can't_ wipe each other out, because if one company fails, it would be the end."  
There was a pause. "...the end of _what_?" The RED Spy finally asked. I thought how odd it was for a Spy to be asking questions – to be unsure.  
"Everything. Reliable Excavation and Demolition and Builders League United were originally owned by Zephaniah Mann; decades ago, he tried making his fortune out here," she gestured to the desert plains of the country outside the window. "Not only did he control those companies, but another, third business - Mann Co. Before he died, he stated that his sons get the two former, and that Mann Co. would be taken over by the Australian Hale family." In the corner of my eye, I could see Sniper frowning, turning his face at the floor. "Zephaniah was a powerful man, one of the richest in the world. But as his companies increased in efficiency, he started dealing in dangerous craft: weapons.  
"As he went deeper into dark territory, he started shutting out the company to the public, until eventually, everyone just forgot about him. He was always more of a loner anyway," she added, looking away for a quick second. "But just because the common people forgot didn't mean that the companies went away. In every war, there have always been two sides, both thinking that the other was wrong." She paused in her story to flick ashes off from her cigarette. "People say it could happen; companies becoming so powerful that they eventually take over the government..." She let another smile creep onto her lips, baring her gums to all of us. "…What they don't know is that it's already happened."  
"W-wait jes' a dang minute here," Engineer stuttered, eyes wide. "Yer sayin' that our governments are really just two companies led by rival brothers?"  
"Well... no. They've become so engrossed in their feud that they've neglected their actual duties. For the good of both companies; RED and BLU are both led by one person: the Director."

Everyone was silent again. "So... _one_ guy runs the entire world." I said, completely flustered. My eyes didn't leave the Announcer – not even to blink. I could feel the smallest of tremors shake my fingers.  
"Yes. Unbelievable, isn't it? Unfortunately, this Director fellow isn't exactly the greatest role model." She blew out a cloud of smoke. "Whoever he is, he's done a good job at covering his tracks. Ever since he's taken over... well, things haven't been as efficient as they were before. I tried to do some research, but I couldn't find any records on him, at all. I hate to tell you, but the war you were fighting was pointless." Soldier rested his chin on a hand and shook his head, muttering to himself as the Announcer's expression turned into one of regretful disgust. "As you've probably guessed, it's a game now. The Director has seemed to take a liking to playing God and making people kill each other for his amusement, adding rules and penalties, creating a reality show out of what should have been a last resort."  
"That fucker," I growled, clenching my fists, out of anger, and out of an effort to make the trembling stop. Demoman put his hand on my shoulder, a grimace on his face.  
"I don't like it any more than you do. My assistant and I have been stuck behind a microphone and a wall of cameras, having to watch everything." She sighed, tucking black hair behind her ear. "My job used to be more important than watching you all kill each other over a suitcase."  
"Zees needs to stop. _Now_," Spy said, his words so uncharacteristically bitter that I had to look up to make sure that they had come from him.  
"Agreed," the RED Demoman chipped in, stepping forward. "I say we go'n teach tha' Directoor a lessin!"  
The Announcer smirked, satisfaction clear in the twist of her lips. "I thought you might say that." Standing up, she looked out the window. "Well, I need to be getting back; they've been getting suspicious since you figured this conspiracy out. I'm glad I could fill in the missing pieces." Taking a step away from the table, she brushed off her suit. "You may want to keep an eye on the roads; the Director will probably send others to check this area out." As she headed for the door, she paused and gave us a look over her shoulder. "And, uh, Mann Co. employees get drunk and drive around out here sometimes. If you see any ammo or ration boxes, let me know, will you?" She winked and, with the clicking of heels, was gone.

"They _would_ get drunk," Sniper muttered darkly under his breath, breaking the silence.  
"So, she's on our side?" The RED Scout asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Huh."  
"Looks like it. I hate to admit it, but you can never have too many allies," Soldier said, giving a pointed look to the younger man. He clapped his hands in a moment of decision. "Alright. We're burning daylight; let's get our supplies and look for places to camp; there's no way seventeen people can fit in one house."  
"What other food've ya got?" I asked the RED Medic, feeling my stomach grumble demandingly. "An official dinner might help."  
"I'll see if we don't have anything that isn't too horrible in our collection of freeze-dried things," the RED Sniper said smarmily, giving me a cutting grin before making his way into the kitchen. I watched his back disappear, glaring at the brown vest.  
"He's kind of a dick," I decided finally - once he was out of earshot, making Spy laugh.  
"He's a professional assassin. A'course he's a dick," the RED Demoman replied, talking louder than me. The RED Sniper poked his head around the corner to glare at the three of us, at which RED Demoman just waved his hand.

My silverware tinked against the metal container I was eating out of. "While we eat, we should plan our next move." Soldier said. "We need to find this Director - and show him that contracting people for his own sick reality show isn't 'Ruler of the World' material," He pushed the empty can he had been eating from out of the way and leaned forward on the table. "But first, we need to figure out where he's at."  
We all shifted in our seats, thinking. He could be anywhere, really. "Well…" The RED Scout moved slightly in his chair, thinking out loud. "I mean, he needs to get a live feed of us like The Announcer, right?"  
RED Spy shook his head. "Eet doesn't matter. Ze wires could go anywhere in the country; any TV studio could be 'ousing 'im."  
"Yeah, but most stations aren't big enough to hold, like, the forty cameras he must have on us. I counted twelve in our base, once; and those were just the ones I could see." I inwardly shuddered, wondering exactly what the Director – or anyone else – saw in the past few months. The RED Scout continued. "Only big companies with a lot of cash flowin' in would be able to get that sort of show set up – and what're the biggest companies we know?"  
Soldier gave him a thumbs-up, the most casual gesture that I'd ever seen him give and which made my eyebrows to rise a little; as for the RED Scout, he just leaned back and smirked like he was King of the World. It was a pretty good idea, though. I hastily added, "Yeah – but how're we gonna find RED and BLU Headquarters?" Soldier turned his gaze on me.  
"That's what we got to figure out. What are the chances they're around here?" RED Spy looked up at him.  
"Ze Announcer mentioned sat both companies started in zees area," all eyes slid to him. "Ees it possible sat the original 'eadquarters are still 'ere?" Soldier grinned and slapped his knee; Spy didn't seem to notice.  
"I'll go out tomorrah to look," Sniper offered, a disconcerted look still on his face. "Can't be too far out."  
Soldier nodded. "Alright. Scout, Spy, you two can go with him," Soldier said, jabbing his thumb to the Australian while looking at the two of us. "Sound good?"  
"Yep."  
"Ouias."

As soon as I saw the RED Spy slip out the front door, I followed. He obviously didn't expect it, because he nearly choked on the smoke from his cigarette when I bluntly asked, "You know my ma?"  
I watched him cough and sputter for a few seconds. "I 'ave no idea 'ow you could 'ave figured sat out," he replied sarcastically, smiling for a second before sitting down on the front stairs. I sat next to him, but before I could ask, he spoke again. "I guess we don't 'ave to worry about confidentiality anymore."  
"Guess not."  
Taking another long drag, he stared at the white stick in between his fingers, looked at me, and crushed the flame against the step beside him before tossing it into the lawn, which was starting to become overgrown. He blew out the leftover smoke in a long sigh. "Alright. Let me start from zee beginning. Eet was... twenty-one years ago. I was sent to America for a vacation of sorts."  
"Of sorts?"  
"In my line of work, vacation is a relative term. Sere are no promises sat eet will last." Stretching his legs out in front of him, he stared at the ground with a fond, reminiscing expression on his face. "I met your muzzer after she ran into me and spilled her drink on my suit. No offense to 'er, but she can be a real klutz sometimes." Now, I love my mom, but I couldn't help but snicker in agreement. "We 'ad a few drinks, agreed to meet up every now and sen while I was sere; just casual, friendly banter."  
"Make a long story short?" I said after a minute of silence.  
"Alright. I slept wizz 'er," he said plainly, staring out into the lawn.

I felt my heart stop. "Wh-what?" I asked weakly.  
"You 'eard right; we 'ad an affair."  
"You…you fucked my ma?" I asked, slack-jawed and feeling strangely empty. It never even came into my head that my Mom would… it never seemed like she would do something like that, like she was the star in one of her trashy afternoon soaps she loved so much.  
The RED Spy squirmed slightly under my stare. It made me almost feel good, to see him like that. "I believe we've made sat clear. But... sat ees not even se 'alf of eet." Sighing, he adjusted, scooting a little closer to me. "I lost 'er phone number after I went back to France."  
"What, you want it from me?" If the whole reason for talking to me - way back when we all still thought we should have been fighting each other – was just to get back in contact with my Ma, it seemed a little extravagant. I probably could've gone my whole life without knowing how far their relationship went. My eyebrows seemed to stick to their furrowed state at the idea, framing an angry glare.  
"Let me finish," he snapped back, causing me to retract in surprise. He sounded so hurt, so distressed, that my temporary anger immediately disintegrated. "Bryan, when I finally found it and called 'er, she told me somezeeing; somezeeng... I never could 'ave prepared for." Hesitating, he reached for his cigarette case, but clenched his fist and put it on his knee.  
It felt like I was standing in front of an open oven, my whole body rushed in an uncomfortable heat; but I could feel the goose bumps on my skin, and a stone made of ice sitting in my gut. I made myself ask; I had to. "What did she tell you?" My voice came out in a strained whisper.  
"Well... Bryan, before I tell you zees," he started, swallowing before continuing, haltingly and carefully, "You should know sat your muzzer never planned what 'appened."  
"I... assumed that." The pit grew, and I could feel dots of sweat at the nape of my neck, but I stood my ground and kept my gaze pointed at him. "What happened?"  
He stared at me for a good while, gnawing on his lower lip. Seeing him so insecure scared me more than I like to admit; I was used to nothing but professionalism from anyone wearing a suit twenty-four seven. "I, ah... you 'ave your muzzer's eyes."  
Blinking at the random change of topic, I just shrugged, "Yeah, I get told all the time that I look more like her than… Dad."

And that's when it hit me like a freight train.

I've seen the family picture, and everyone that looked at it always said that I always looked different than my brothers. Looking closer, I eventually saw it, too; how I lacked the distinctive chin of my father, how my eyes held just a hint of gray. "B-but that doesn't..."  
"Yes it does."  
We stared at each other, and rage suddenly flashed through my brain. Part of me just wanted to sock him; I almost did, actually, but he took the fist I had made and pulled me into a gentle, wary hug. I used every single curse I could think of, half-screaming them into his jacket and when all he said was, "Watch your language," I grabbed his shoulder and clung to him, digging my fingers in like claws.  
"Y-you're not... you're not..." I repeated, trying not to give into beating my fists against his back. "Y-you can't be."  
"I'm sorry," was all he said.  
After a minute, I pushed myself away. He didn't fight, or look surprised, and he didn't trail me when I stormed off and around the side of the house. I could feel every raw emotion slugging through my brain, leaving me unsure of what to do with it before I settled on the default. I looked at the bandages wrapped around my hands and punched a nearby shingle as hard as I could. And then I did it again, and again, and again, hitting it until the faintest tinge of red could be seen on the eggshell-white slab of wood in whatever fading light was left. I was left shaking with rage, or shock, or something. I stood there for a good ten minutes; it felt like I was chewing my pulse up between my teeth.  
I heard footsteps approaching, and then there was silence. I could recognize the shoes, and the person wearing them, leaving me wishing that someone else had found me. "I know it's 'ard to believe," he started uncertainly.  
"Say it."  
"Quoi?"  
I turned to him, eyes hard as I enunciated, "Say. It." My fists twitched again, the strained fingers not deterring me from clenching the bunched up hands.  
Another moment of silence.  
He sighed, and took a step forward. "I... I got your muzzer pregnant." There was another step. "And..." He lifted his arms slightly, his skinny body bending his shoulders awkwardly, his mouth a black 'o' but no words came out.  
I finished it for him. "You got her pregnant with _me_," I clarified. The words felt strange coming from me, and they left a somewhat foul taste in my mouth. "You're my... my dad." We just stared at each other before I laughed; broken and maniacal; my neck making a quiet snapping sound as I abruptly threw it over my shoulders. I didn't care about everyone finding us – I didn't care about the Men in Black, or the Director; I couldn't care about anyone at the moment except me. "Well, this day's just gettin' better and better!" Grinning so wide my cheeks hurt, I started pacing. "So, we're kicked outta our home... forced ta walk halfway across the desert..." I started ticking off everything on my red fingers. "-Thrown inta some kinda sci-fi plot where one guy's in charge'a the whole world, AND!" I held up a finger to emphasize the point; this one was important. "And you're actually my dad!" Laughing again, it quickly turned into a growl, then a scream as I kicked the house. My foot would swell tomorrow, I was certain, and the pain only fueled my rage.  
I let my body fall; onto the wide-bladed weed grass against the dirty house. My arms and legs crumpled and I sank myself into a ball; head in hands, resting between my legs. Plane crash position, abort, abort, abort.  
He was quick to slink to the ground beside me and hug me again, resting his chin on the top of my head. His hands shook against my arms, and I could taste that last cigarette on his breath. It made me want to cough, but I resisted, giving out a strangled, stuttering "Hey," instead. I even managed to choke out a "Dad?" a few seconds after, between my dry sobs.  
"...Oui?" I couldn't breathe enough – and every second felt like I was drowning; but a calmness settled over me; one that didn't come from punching, kicking, yelling, or even running.  
"Y-ya should teach me F-French... help me p-pick up g-girls."  
He let a relieved laugh ring out, and I joined him through imaginary tears.

* * *

Raise your hand if you saw the thing with the RED Spy coming.


	15. Good Night

**A/N**: It's official, ladies and gents: I'm a drama!bombshell whore. Maybe I should get a llama for a pet.

* * *

There was a little fountain by the center of town, filled with change and a few inches of water from the rain. There might have once been a statue in the middle, spouting out water and hiding a pump, but it was gone now, leaving a flat, gray slab. I hopped onto it from the lips of the fountain, and began to gather up some of the coins that were in reach before tossing them back inside: _Penny, penny, nickel, quarter…_ The RED Spy... well, I wasn't sure whether or not to call him that any more. It felt too soon to be calling him 'Dad' so casually, but too callous to just keep calling him by his code name.

Oddly enough, that was the only dilemma running through my head as I listened to the coins hit the water. _Plunk! Plunk!_

The temperature was dropping nice and slow, the chill almost setting in, prodding me to go back inside to the others, but I stayed where I was. The sun had almost finished setting, and suddenly, it seemed as if all the light and comfort in the world was being smothered out in a gaping monster of black. The chill prodded me again. This time, I lifted my legs, tempted to leave, before I simply crossed them and resumed my spot in the middle of the fountain. Stubbornness hovering over me like the night sky was._  
'Happy thoughts, Bryan,'_ I thought, holding onto the last quarter that sat in my palm. "RED Spy," I said out loud; testing the name. "…Dad." The conversation cut through the muffled quiet surrounding me. "RED Spy - Dad. Dad. Daaaad." Blinking, it was only when I drew the word out that I realized how crazy I sounded.  
Apparently, Spy realized, too, because his voice sounded amused when he asked, "What are you doing?"  
I nearly fell into the water, but managed to catch myself. "Uh, hi. Just, ah, thinkin'." I looked back at the coin, shoulders shrinking.  
"About your fazzer, I take it?"  
My heart jumped a bit – more out of instinct than anything else - but I just breathed in an effort to calm myself. "Yeah." He was standing a good distance behind me, and as I looked back at him, the stark contrast of his dark blue pants and white shirt made it look like he was the ghost of a man who'd been sawed in half. I shivered just as he slid into view at the front of the fountain. He stared at the stagnant pool, as if wondering if it was worth it to cross. He looked to me.  
"Zee RED Spy mentioned you were out 'ere. Soldier wants us all back to discuss 'roommates'." He hooked his fingers to make air quotes, bringing a small smirk to my face, as he rubbed them together, as if he might snap them. He let them fall and smoothed his shirt. "'Ow are you feeling?"  
I smiled. "Pretty good, actually. Considerin' all the crazy shit we've had ta deal with. What about you?" I shifted closer to him, pushing with my hands until we were only three feet apart, trying to make his face out in the darkness.  
He twitched his shoulders, running a hand over his hair. "I... am not sure. On se one 'and, we're safe - alsough not for long. On se ozzer..." Hesitating, he sighed before looking down at the water in the fountain. "Eet's all complicated, non?"  
"I know whatcha mean. The whole thing with the companies -"  
"Sat ees not what I meant. Bryan... what are you 'iding?"  
I felt myself lean back again. I swallowed. Spy probably would've asked me what was 'wrong' sooner or later; I knew that he figured something out; I just didn't want to deal with it so soon, especially thinking about what happened less than an hour ago. "Uh... so, you can tell?"  
His mouth quirked upwards. "I'm a spy."  
Oh. Right. I leaned down and splashed at the water absently, trying to think of how to word it. "You ever... you ever wanna tell someone somethin', but couldn't? Like, because it didn't feel right to?"  
He looked at me for a good, long minute before closing his eyes - at least, I think he did. "Fair enough... but, tell me sees much. Does eet 'ave to do wees the companies or mission?"  
I couldn't help but shake my head and smile. "No, it's nothin' like that."  
His shoulders sagged, like a huge weight of worry had been taken off of him. "Good."  
"What," I said, feeling myself smile wider – I wonder if he could see my teeth. "Are you afraid I'm secretly a Spy, too, or somethin'?" I stood up, moving towards him.  
"Non… not a Spy," He held up his hand, to help me across the water. I knew I didn't need it, and if it was anyone else I probably would've said so, but I grabbed it anyway, hopping down to meet him on common earth. "You don' have the correct swagger." I finally saw his face clearly; he was smiling, too.

"Alright, we're pairing off," Soldier said once he counted sixteen other bodies in the yard with him. He was pacing slightly, his straight posture sagging with exhaustion. "Too risky to split everyone up. Try to keep it three or four to a household; two, at least. The RED Medic and Engie have agreed to stick with me in this house here, so that's one group already. Next?"  
Spy and I just looked at each other, silently agreeing to room together. "I'm with Spy," I said, ignoring how the RED Sniper glared at the both of us, coughing up hidden snickers. I realized beforehand that he was a complete bastard and I couldn't do much about it – that sort of thing wasn't exactly rare, if my memories of high school were right.  
Soldier nodded at the two of us with the makeshift lantern Engie had cooked up, after he had used my voice to find us in the dark; but it was Sniper that spoke up next, surprising me. "If they don't moind, I'll room with 'em." Spy looked at him for a long time before nodding, and I shrugged, apathetic.  
"Alright. Spy, Scout, Sniper, you're in the house right behind you." I turned to look; it was a nice little one-story, with a rotting swing on the porch. The RED Spy, after chatting with Medic, was the next to pipe up, and they, with Heavy, got put in the house across the street.  
Once everyone had been grouped up, the RED Demoman brought up a good point. "We're in thes togethoor. Why go on wi' thes coodename shite?" He took another swig from his bottle, and I wondered if he only said that because he was wasted; it was a good point, though. We weren't RED and BLU anymore, really. Our uniforms were just coincidences now.  
So, we all decided to break out the limited amount of booze we brought with us and tell all, around a campfire. The embers burnt as low as they could while still providing half-decent light. A large pot of water stood aside in case anyone came by, so that we could have a chance of hiding before they found us.  
Engie went first, tipping his hard hat with the mouth of his bottle and grinning with Southern cheer as he said, "All right... My name's Rick, Rick Stetson. I'm from Beehive."  
A few silent seconds ticked by before the RED Scout cleared his throat. "J-Josh. Peterson. I mean, my name's Joshua, but guys just call me Josh. I, uh, I'm from Modesto. Cali."  
I smiled at him before nodding. "Bryan Micheals, Boston."  
The RED Pyro flipped her hair over her shoulder and beamed at me. "Boston? I thought I recognized that accent. I'm from Baltimore, name's Eunae Ryuk."  
I raised an eyebrow and lifted my beer to her. "I should've recognized the East Coast attitude." I took a sip; it was lukewarm, and had an off flavor because of it. I didn't bother to put it down, though.  
The RED Heavy simply stated "Saini" before sinking back into silence. He didn't talk much.  
"Vilhem Brandt, Stuttgart, Germany," Medic said with vague shyness that disappeared once the RED Medic slung his arm around his shoulders.  
"Dietah Jürvich; same."  
Throughout those five or so minutes around the campfire, the wall that had been built between RED and BLU was being picked at; kicked and punched at all sides as we all began to make conversation; I learned that the RED Sniper was Gabriel, from Stoke-on-Trent, the RED Engineer, Owen, was actually Canadian, and the RED Demoman was Blane. "Gérard," the RED Spy said, winking at me as I looked at him in surprise; I hadn't thought that he'd actually participate.  
Sniper was quiet, up until the name-sharing had reached a stand-still. It was only him and Spy left at that point, so he shook his head and looked up. "I moight as well get this out in the open. The name's David Hale. Oi'm from Brisbane, Queensland, Australia."  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the RED Scout said, gaping at him. "Hale? As in -"  
"Ye. Saxton Hale. He's me dad. Next," he finished so sourly, in such a sure tone, that all our questions immediately died in our mouths. He turned the warning glare to Spy, letting it fade as he contemplated whether or not to tell his name. Everyone's gazes followed, and I hoped he would actually speak.  
Looking over each and every face, he stopped on me, staring me right in the eyes as he remained still. Finally, after a good minute, he said, "Zacharie." In a clear tone that seemed quieter than everyone else. I stared back at him, finally being able to put a name to his face, and giving him a quick smile that told him that I'd have a nickname for him soon enough.  
The RED Medic inhaled before standing. "I zhink I deserve to honor zhe one man who isn't wizh us." Lifting his bottle in the air, he declared, "Abel Thompson, zhe RED Soldier." He took a mouthful as soon as everyone else had followed suit, and grinned. "He'll be pissed zhat he missed this."  
I laughed, knocking into Spy's shoulder with my own.

After some more conversation, I got a recap on what I'd missed during my conversation with the RED Spy - Sniper would be out driving around in search for the companies' headquarters, and three of us would be going with. As we all agreed that it was time to get some rest, I saw the RED Medic nudge our Medic and whisper to him. Medic hesitated before bursting into giggles and nodding, and they both climbed up on the doors to the cellar before throwing their fists in the air and yelling, "_Heil us!"_  
After a brief, stunned silence, the RED Pyro hollered out a cheer, pumping her fist, and we all followed suit. It was pretty freaky, but also pretty inspiring, in its own way.  
As we carefully tested out the porch stairs (it turned out that the first step was rotted through), I decided to ask, "So, how do you two know each other?" My eyes were on the ground, in front of them, watching for any more weak spots in the wood. The creaking of their footsteps went silent, so I turned back.  
Both Sniper and Spy had frozen, Spy's gloved hand only inches from the porch railing. "None'a yer business," Sniper said.  
I cringed slightly under his gaze, like I had when he told us who his father was. I was about to apologize, but Spy regained his senses, saying, "Non, David, 'e can ask."  
"'Ey -"  
"Eet 'appened a long time ago," he interrupted so sternly that Sniper actually straightened, defeat starting to sink into his face. "We all make mistakes, non?"  
I looked between them, chuckling nervously. "No, dude, it's okay. I mean, what am I doin', makin' you tell me secrets when I won't even tell ya mine."  
Sniper raised his eyebrow inquisitively, but Spy smiled back at me. "Well, who knows? Maybe zees will 'elp you." With that, he pulled open the door, shoving the unused piece of wood as far open as it would let him without embarrassing himself, and went inside.  
It smelled much more like rot in this house than the first one, a couch in what once was a living room were crumpled in on itself and worn away, to the point where it looked like piles of dirty cloth – the curtains matched. Each wall had peeling paint, and each step sounded either creaky or wet; I felt my throat and face get coated with dust.  
Sniper leaned against the wall as Spy went on to check out the house, and I rolled my shoulder awkwardly. "Sorry. Curiosity, y'know?"  
"Last I heard, curiosity killed the cat," he retorted, removing his hat and setting it on the ground next to him. "But... wotever. It was at a bar, a few years back." His mouth twitched into a brief smile. "Oi had fun explainin' drop bears to that one."  
"Drop bears?"  
"Eet's a myth told to new travelers to scare zem," Spy said, poking his head back into the main living area. "Sere ees a basement, by zee way."  
"Ye. Well, that was it fer our firs' meeting. But..." Sniper sniffled, obviously uncomfortable in what he was sharing. "'Bout a few months later, I got trampled out huntin'. Of course, no one in the world but this guy-" He jerked a thumb to Spy, who gave an uncharacteristically devious grin. "Saves me."  
"Ouch."  
"Indeed. 'e was nearly out for a full day."  
"Gettin' trampled hurts, mate." Sniper nodded sagely, making me snicker. "Not that it takes a genius te figure _that_ out."  
"So, youse guys met up in a bar, then happened to run into eachudda again just like that?"  
"Oui. But... again, a few monzz later, 'e showed up at my door; I was on vacation at zee time."  
"Not that'che told me."  
"I sought it was obvious."  
I cleared my throat to break up their banter, and Spy coughed, probably from the dust. "Anyways," Sniper said. "Yeah, I showed up again... it... gets lonely out there, y'know?"  
I nodded absently, and then lifted my head to look at the both of them. Spy coughed again, staring at the floor. I could practically hear him blushing when he spoke, "Oui... eet ees what you think."  
I realized the dust wasn't making him act up.  
"To make it fair, we were drunk," Sniper offered, looking back at the other. I could imagine the bitter grin he wore. I felt an uncomfortable sense in my gut, like something was trying to crawl its way through my stomach to freedom.  
I let my finger move back and forth between the two of them, "You guys… with each other?"  
"Sat's about right."  
It was as if my brain had gone to sleep early, without telling me – leaving the rest of my body to try to fend for itself. "...what." It wasn't doing too well.  
"Yeah. No one else knows about it. Neva expected te run into him again, especially out _here_, of all places." Sniper stretched his mouth to yawn, pushing away from the wall and picking up his hat before heading out the doorway Spy was leaning in. They brushed shoulders as he called back, "Well, I'm off te bed."

It was just me and Spy now, standing so still that we could've been statues. With the wave of shock wearing off, I had to hold back from screaming in disbelief. First the RED Spy, and now _this_? What was it with freaking Spies fucking people I know? I'd had a feeling that there'd been romance involved, but I never thought it was this. "So... _you_, mister froggy beyond belief, slept with _him_, mister tough-ass from the Outback?"  
Spy chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, patting his hair down. "Well... you 'ave to realize, I was young. I was still in zee mindset sat leaving a trail of broken 'earts and a'rubtly ending relationships _wouldn't_ eventually come back to 'aunt me. And, like 'e said, we were bozh drunk." He then peered at me, stepping forward. "Are you smileeng?" He tried to judge in the absence of light.  
I blinked, realizing that I was actually smiling, that it had seeped out unnoticed. "Uh... It's just, y'know. It's _you_."  
"I didn't plan eet. I'm not... Why do you care, anyways?"  
My smile fell off. "Uh, I was just wonderin'. I mean, you guys seemed..." Faltering, I shook my head and moved to the wall on the right. "It's none of my business, sorry, I'll just..." I could feel Spy's eyes on me as I made myself comfortable on the floor. I realized the moment that I laid down the wasn't much I could do to make myself actually comfy, and I knew I wasn't using any of the curtains unless I'd be able to scrub myself raw with soap and hot water the next morning. I settled for taking off my shirt, balling it up to make a pillow, taking off my shoes and rolling down my sock so the tops stayed closer to my calves, instead of around my knees. Halfway through I wondered if I did all that to prevent myself from looking at Spy. When I finally stopped and let myself lay down, I heard Spy's shoes thudding on the wood floors before he put himself on the floor only a few feet away from me. "I won't tell anyone," I said insecurely.  
"Eet's alright." Spy's hand reached over to rest on my shoulder, leaving goose bumps behind when he pulled away and stilled.

Bombshell after bombshell was being tossed on me, it seemed, but this last one... well, it was just plain _weird_. I shivered against the air, which I was starting to adjust to, and forced my eyes shut, trying to push my thoughts down into the bottom of my mind at the realization of how tired I really was. I was never the kind of person who wasn't able to get _some_ sleep, no matter what happened that day that might keep someone awake until dawn. I kept on repeating in my head that, anything that happened today can wait another eight hours before I deal with it again. I didn't look back at Spy, to make conversation, check if he was asleep, or even if he took his gloves off before he had lain down. The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was the wall of sun bleached, peeling and cracking wallpaper._  
Good night._


	16. All About Luck

A/N: So... hi. It's been a while. Uh... sorry 'bout that. In a way to hopefully make it up to you guys, this chapter's going up in two parts. And to be the bearer of bad news, we're about to reach the end-game, which will make this the first fanfiction I've _ever_ finished. Which is a really freaking big deal.

I'll shut up now.

* * *

I opened my eyes slowly. I was still in a barely conscious state, and was expecting to wake up in my bed back at 2fort, with the smells of breakfast wafting down the hallway from the kitchen. When I saw foreign, neglected wallpaper staring back at me, I sat up, alarmed.

I remembered with a slump of my shoulders: I wasn't at 2fort anymore. I was sitting on the floor of a run-down house in the middle of Nowhere, New Mexico. My hands scrubbed my face and I yawned, feeling rush pads on the tips of my fingers and sweaty, unwashed skin on my face. I saw movement in the corner of my eye – if it wasn't for early morning exhaustion, I might have jumped. There was no threat this time, just Spy, turning in his sleep.  
He was sprawled out in an uncharacteristically peaceful way. The aged lines on his face disappeared; it made me feel bad to wake him up. I decided to put that off as long as I could. Like me, he'd decided to ball up his shirt for use as a pillow, leaving his gloves, belt and a folded up jacket next to him. Both hands were on his chest: a lot of pale skin moving up and down with his breaths. I watched him sleep like that for longer than I should have.  
I shook myself when he began to mutter. He still hadn't woken up, I realized, though I did lean toward him, trying to decipher a message, a string of words… it was all in French, of course. I decided to get dressed and find that aforementioned basement. I tried to ignore the thoroughly worn and sweat mixed smell the clothes got when they moved in the air. On my feet, I realized that the floor liked to squeak.  
I decided to put my shoes on outside, leaving the room with only minor noise – compared to a pack of elephants.  
At least Spy wasn't up to see my stealth failure.

The basement was behind a decomposing door; affixed to the wall by one rusting hinge, right next to the aperture leading into the kitchen. I debated simply turning on the light and going down the stairs, but out of worry of disturbing him, I just called, "Hey, Snipes?"  
A few seconds passed, and I was about to go ahead and leave by myself when I heard him reply, "Ye?"

"I'm gonna go check in, see if Solly's awake yet. Wanna come with?"

A long pause. "Nah. Thanks."

"Alright. Just wonderin'." I rapped my knuckles on the door lightly, as a farewell gesture, before I closed the door again and headed for the back door, shoes in hand. I thought I was moving carefully, but maybe it just wasn't my day: I ended up dripping down a raised nail. I had a few seconds to bring my arms to my head before the approaching grass gave me its good morning routine. My shoes went flying, and my ankle began to throb against the corner of the step it landed on. Had I hurt it? I pushed myself up and tried to get a look at it, before I heard Medic call out.  
"Herr Scou... uh, Bryan?" He sounded strange using my real name - and uncomfortable - but he still made his way to me, glasses sitting lazily on his nose and a tired smile on his lips. "Ah you alright? I saw you fall."  
I massaged my ankle, feeling for anything wrong. "I can't really tell. Nothin' feels off, but you wanna check, just in case?"  
Medic shrugged and knelt next to me, gently replacing my hands with his. I leaned back just slightly, but then noticed something was... weird about him today. In contrast to his rigid nature, he seemed much more complacent today, almost careless. After a few seconds, he nodded and smiled up at me. "You ah fine. Zhe vay you landed vorried me a bit, but zhere's nozzhing zhat von't heal quickly."  
"Oh, cool." I climbed up to my feet. He was right, my foot felt tender; but it would be okay. I found my shoes and started to put them on my feet. Not looking at him, I said, "You alright, doc? You seem kinda... weird."  
He blushed slightly and pushed up his glasses. "I don't know vhat you ah talkingk about."  
Standing up again, I gave him a tilted look. I had just woken up, but something still seemed off. He looked uncharacteristically disheveled – not like I looked any better, though. And then he pulled at the neck of his ridiculously large shirt and it dawned on me; Medic didn't wear shirts that big… but someone else we knew did. "You got lucky, didn'tcha?"  
Medic sputtered, face practically glowing "Bryan!"  
I grinned. Bingo. "You did!" His face contorted into the greatest expression of embarrassment I had ever seen; better than any time my brother's and I had teased each other about girlfriends. "Hey man, nothin' to be ashamed about. More power to ya." I balled my hand into a fist and hit it against my chest, and his face started to drain nearly all the color he had. He cleared his throat: I decided to change subjects. "You know if Solly's awake yet?"  
"Ah, I zhink I heard somevone movingk about in zhere, but I'm not sure," he said, avoiding my eyes as he tried to see into the window of the house Soldier was occupying.  
"Well, guess there's only one way to find out. You wanna come with?" I took a step towards the house.  
"Nein, nein. Zhe last zhingk I vant is to face Deitah's wratzh." Leaning in, Medic whispered, "He can be very irritable in zhe morningks."  
"Hehe. Maybe he just needs a big Russian to cuddle with," I saw him heading back to his 'house' red stains on his cheeks again. Oh well, at least he knew I was just joking. I circled around to the back door and, even more mindful about where my feet landed when I took a step, went up the stairs to knock on the sad, rotting excuse that was meant to keep me out.

The door opened a crack, and the barrel of a gun poked out through. I held up my hands and said, loudly, "It's Bryan. The BLU Scout. Lemme guess, it's Dieter?"  
A pause, and the gun retracted, the door opening completely to reveal the person I expected. He looked pretty clean for just waking up, but the scar under his eye was much more obvious than usual. "_Wos ist los_?" He grumbled, his attitude saying more than his appearance about how he felt. Seeing me blink in confusion, he sighed and cleared his throat. "Sorry. Vhat is it?"  
"I was wondering if Solly was up. For plannin'… and such."  
He stepped away from the door, leaving it open as invitation for me to come inside. I did, looking over to see Soldier sitting at the table with a glass of water, staring off into space. "Hey." He looked up; eyes squinted as an indication of just how tired he was.  
"Scout," he said automatically, turning in his seat to face me. "Err..."  
"Ya can call me Scout, if ya want. I don't care."  
He nodded, seeming grateful that he didn't have to refer to me by my real name. "Alright. Planning, right? You were going with Sniper for recon, right?"  
"If ya don't need me here."  
Soldier snapped his fingers and reached over to a bag on the half-broken table. Reaching inside, he pulled out a little black box and handed it to me. "Here. For when you go out, in case we need to reach you."  
I blinked and looked at it, trying to remember how it looked familiar. "Oh. This is, ah... a walkie-talkie right?"  
"Yep. You've seen 'em before, then?"  
"I think, in a catalog."

He scooted his chair back, standing with effort. Ignoring my worried gaze, he cleared his throat. "Basically, it's a two-way radio. We used 'em in the war, but they decided to release them to the public." Finally meeting my eyes, he smiled and shook his head. "Rough night. Don't worry about it."  
"If you say so. So, should we go whenever?"  
"Affirmative, just check in first. Everything fine on your end?" He eyed me, trying to tell if there was anything wrong in how I was standing.  
I straightened my back and waved my hand. "Yep. Pretty sure inhalin' all that mold isn't healthy, but..."  
He chuckled and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry. Hopefully, we won't stay here long." Sitting back down, he pulled out the other walkie-talkie and started playing with the little tuning dial on the side. I took that as a cue to leave, nodding at Dieter as I passed him. He took a drink of something from his own mug and returned the gesture as I exited.

Spy was sitting on the front porch, smoking a cigarette. "Good morning," he said when I came up. I shoved my hands into my pockets as I came closer.  
I smiled back. "Mornin', sunshine." I took the seat next to him on the rotted swing.  
He chuckled, taking a little puff. "I didn't sleep that long, did I?"  
"Well, I dunno. Hard to tell what time it is without a clock." Giving the swing a careful little nudge, I leaned back and stared up at the awning above us. "I didn't realize how much I relied on technology."  
"I don't 'tink any of us did." He took a breath and looked at me, pulling on a wrist cuff. "Did you go to talk about se plan for today?"  
"Yeah. I'm gonna be headin' out with Snipes to try and find HQ… stake it out." I looked back towards the door. "Assumin' he ever comes up."  
"I'm pretty sure 'e's awake. Just 'iding." He took another breath of his cigarette and gave a little half-smile. "'e is a bit of se lonesome type."  
"Well, he talks ta you, so he's got taste, at least."  
He nudged me slightly. "'e talks to you, too."  
"Like I said."  
Spy dropped the stub that was his cigarette and ground it into the deck with his foot. "And to zink, I zought you were being 'umble."  
"I can be humble," I protested, crossing my arms and slouching in a typical pouting pose. "You just don't give me credit."  
He leaned against the back of the swing slowly, testing it like I did. His profile was smirking. "I'll be sure to remember sat zee next time you start bragging again."  
I swatted him on the shoulder.

The door swung open, and Sniper came out, pulling his hat onto his head before looking at us through his sunglasses. "Y'ready?" he asked.


	17. Discovery

**A/N:** More bad news comes with this update: I no longer have a beta reader. So if quality seems a bit less than usual, that's because I kind of fail on my own. P: But if anyone would like to step up to plate, feel free to shoot me a message.  
Anyway, this chapter marks the beginning of me juggling two different stories at once. Let's see how I do!

* * *

We drove for hours, trying to find HQ. It wasn't easy; we were in the less populated area of New Mexico, where we were lucky to see a house every ten miles or so. But it was during a driving break that I spotted it; a building in the distance, made of complete concrete and so clean that it almost shined in the sunlight. "Hey."  
Spy peered into the distance, his eyes straining to find what I had seen for a good minute. "Oh. Sat ees pretty smart."  
"Hoidin' in the distance like that, ye. Makes it harder to be seen." Sniper rubbed his hands together and stepped back into the camper, reaching over to speak into the walkie-talkie I'd handed to him.

"Hey, uh... you're name's Zacharie, right?" I asked conversationally, hoping to coin on an idea I'd gotten the night before.  
Spy rolled his shoulder, as though contemplating the way his name sounded in my voice. "Ouias."  
"Uh, I was thinkin'... maybe I could just call ya 'Z' or somethin'? It sounds like an edgy codename."  
It took him less time that I thought it would for him to look over at me and give that one-sided smile of his. "Just 'Z'? I'm not sure a codename would 'elp, since everyone knows my name now... but eef you want."  
Before I could stop myself, I said, "I do."

And, I kid you not, a tumbleweed blew past during the silence in which he turned and raised his eyebrow at me, obviously humored. I blushed, confident it would be hidden by the sun beaming right on my face, and cleared my throat.  
"Alroight. We're gonna get closer..." Sniper started, stopping to look between the two of us before continuing, "And see if we can see anything."  
I nodded, but Spy asked, "And eef sey see us?"  
"We play pretend."

According to Spy, we managed to sit outside the HQ for about an hour before we spotted the black silhouette of a guard approaching on the horizon. "Do they know what we look like?"  
"Possibly. But eef I were zem, I wouldn't expect enemies to waltz up to my front door," Spy mused, watching the silhouette get closer and closer. He straightened his back and ordered, "David, lay low. Bryan, follow my lead."

Just as the guard could see us clearly, I exited the camper, followed by Z. "I told you we should've turned right, Dad!" I said in the closest thing to a Northern accent that I could.  
"The map said to go left," he argued back, in an accent so convincing that I could hardly believe it was him.  
"Excuse me, sirs," the guard said, causing both of us to look over in mild surprise. "Is there a problem?"  
"Yeah, our camper broke down." I jerked a thump at Z. "My dad's too stubborn to follow anything but the map."  
Z rolled his eyes and pulled out a map from the pocket of the vest he'd borrowed from Sniper. "Excuse me, could you point out where..." As Z pulled out all of his acting stops, I went back inside the camper, making sure the door was completely closed before turning to Sniper, making excitedly anxious claws out of my hands.

"Calm down, kid," he whispered, crouched down by his mini-fridge with his hand on his kukri, just in case.  
"I can't help it, there's a goon RIGHT OUTSIDE!" I said in a frenzied whisper, almost jumping out of my skin when the door behind me opened.  
"'e bought it," Z said, brushing his hands on his shirt as he slid out of the vest, tossing it over to the couch. "But we probably shouldn't stay around here for much longer."  
"We'll go around t' the other side," Sniper said, standing up and making his way to the driver's seat.  
"You do good accents," I told Z, smiling slightly.  
"Yours wasn't bad, either," he replied, redoing his tie cleanly.

We managed to dodge two more guard visits before deciding to call it quits, and Sniper marked down where we had found HQ after finding the closest major road.

"We're gonna have to get in closer," Soldier said, tapping the table in thought; he was half-leaning, half-sitting on the surface. I was starting to wonder if the fact that he was sitting all the time was something to be worried about, but I kept my thoughts to myself.  
"I could go in," Dad said, lifting his hand in the air. "Infiltration is my specialty."  
"But what if they recognize you?" the RED Scout countered, and I silently agreed, giving Dad a worried look.  
"He's right, it's too risky." The RED Medic clasped his hands together, holding them up to his lips thoughtfully. "But let's consider zhat for a last resort."  
"Well, all we need to know is whether or not the Director's there, right?" the RED Sniper drawled, setting his rifle aside. "I'm thinking... get a Sniper out there, stake it out with our scopes, and see if we can't see him coming out or going in."  
Soldier nodded, "That would be a good idea. Let's do that." He looked up to both of the Snipers. "You should probably figure out a schedule so that we don't have you out there for hours on end. The last thing we need is for either of you to get heat stroke."  
They looked at each other wordlessly and nodded.  
"Alright. Now, we play the waiting game."

**odbo**

The waiting game was boring. In just the remainder of that day, I was so bored that playing baseball with live grenades seemed fun enough to try - and it was actually pretty fun, assuming the RED Demoman remembered not to activate them. But eventually, my arms started to ache, and I had to give it up, tossing the bat to the RED Scout as I went to go sit on the closed doors leading into the main house's cellar.  
Engineer came up with a beer in hand, nudging me as he eyed the game-playing duo warily. "How's it goin'?"  
"Wonderfully," I said sarcastically. "God, I almost wish we were back at 2fort."  
Engineer chuckled a little nervously. "Sure is different roughin' it, eh?"  
"Yeah." I leaned forward, resting my chin on my knuckles. "I mean, I brought books, but I don't feel like readin' 'em."  
"You brought books?"  
I looked up and smiled, a little sheepishly. "Well... just in case, y'know?"  
"Sometimes, I swear yer clairvoyant."

Engineer had made a little makeshift watch that said it was about three in the afternoon. When I sneaked away to grab one of the books I'd mentioned to Engie, I gave a short little prayer: "God, please don't make us live like this for too long. We might have ta start killin' each otha ta get any entertainment."

I managed to survive until sundown, when we set up a campfire again to chat. And somehow, we managed to convince Medic to bring out his violin and play something for us. With Engineer's guitar and everyone else alternating singing, we managed to kill time until, one by one, everyone disappeared into their little safe havens.

The RED Pyro started to talk to me as we headed over to my refuge. "So, assuming we make it through this alive, we should totally keep in touch," she said, pushing her black hair behind an ear.  
"Yeah?" I shrugged. "We live close enough to each other."  
"So if I ever get mad at you, I don't have that far to drive to kick your ass." She grinned at me jokingly as I let out an unconvincing yelp of terror. "Hell hath no fury..."  
"Like a woman scorned," I finished, pausing on the final step to the front porch. "But I try not to scorn, y'know?"  
She nodded. "A good way to live. Night." She waved and made her way towards the house she was staying in.  
I watched her go until the moonlight reflecting on her hair faded into darkness.

And despite protests from my mind that it was too early, I curled up on the floor and passed out not too soon after, not evening noticing when Z came in and put his jacket over me as a blanket.


	18. End Game

**A/N:** It's finally happening, guys. After all this time... I'm updating. To make up for the ridiculously long time it took me to write this, it's pretty long.  
And also a wild Spout appears, but what's so exciting about that?

* * *

The door slammed open at around eleven in the morning with such ferocity that I jumped, the uneven legs of my chair making me unable to support my weight. So when the snipers came running in, they did so just in time to watch me topple to the floor with a yelp and a thud.

"Ye alright?" Sniper asked, coming over to help me up. I took the help gratefully and stood up, muttering a sheepish 'thanks'.  
The RED Sniper tossed a bag on the floor and, with a grin said the words that we'd been waiting for the past two days to hear: "We got 'im."  
"Really?" The RED Scout yelled excitedly, eyes wide as he stood up and ran over to give the older man a high five.  
"Yep. Caught 'im drivin' up in a limousine like 'e owned the place," Sniper said, taking a swig from his thermos. In the short amount of time I'd had to get to know him, I'd learned by now that inside the thermos was coffee. Decaf, to be specific, since apparently, caffeine gave him the shakes and affected his ability to shoot.  
Soldier clapped his hands, grinning and saying somewhat dramatically, "Well, then, here we go, gents - and lady. This is the end game."

I wrung my hat in my hands, feeling dread instead of joy. This was _it_; we were going to find the guy who had done this to us, who had forced us to kill each other for his amusement, and we were going to give him a nice little taste of his own medicine.

"Alright. We're gonna have to do this, and do it fast. Let's figure out a plan tonight, and get prepared to attack tomorrow or the day after that, at most." Soldier clapped his hands, grabbing at some loose sheets of paper.

The basic plan went something like this: we would head out to HQ at dawn, and the Spies would infiltrate the building just as soon as workers started to come in. They'd give us updates about security; when it was at its strongest, weakest, stuff like that. They'd also tell us where all of the major points of the building were located, so that we could focus on capturing those first and getting footholds to fall back to. Then, around noon when a majority of staff left the building for lunch, we'd move in, find the Director, and teach him a little lesson with as little casualties as possible.  
I could envision myself breaking his face open with my bat. And while, at the moment, I grinned gleefully at the thought, I still look back at that thought and worry about how I was a lit fuse just waiting to reach the end and explode.  
Thankfully, no one noticed, since they were all lost in planning and their own thoughts.

Pyro pulled me to behind the main house when I slipped out of the back door when the meeting was over. "You seem... er, you look like you need to relax. Come here." Not like I had any choice. He turned to me and gestured for me to sit down on the grass. "Okay, so, my parents always taught me -" He held up a finger. "When in doubt, meditate. It clears your head. Now, Medic told me he's felt some really negative vibes coming from you, so -"  
"Wait wait wait. Medic _what_?" I interrupted, raising an eyebrow.  
"Yeah. He's an empath, I guess. Really in-tune with what other people are feeling." Pyro shrugged and sat opposite of me in what he told me was called the lotus position. "Alright... close your eyes." Hesitantly, I did, only then realizing that my eyes were burning from the brightness of the sun. "The way my mother taught me was to think of the time you were happiest, and focus on that."  
Ouch. That was a tough one. I racked my brain for a good minute or so before I finally settled on a memory: sitting down at the docks with Mom and a stranger that I now knew was my father, watching the sunset. I wanted to say that I'd gotten the image, but something held me back. It was a time for absolute silence, which I actually _am_ capable of sometimes.

We sat there for a good while before the voice of the RED Scout came up: "What the hell're you guys doing?"  
I opened my eyes slowly and sighed. The sudden noise had broken my concentration. "Nothing, thanks to you." I looked over my shoulder to shoot him a grin, dodging out of the way just in time to avoid being hit by a worn baseball. Pyro just sighed, smiling at me through closed eyes.

Walking back to the fountain, I was amazed; I actually _did_ feel a lot calmer. And I even whistled to myself as I collected the coins I had thrown in a few nights before, more for sentiment than anything else. Unless a convenience story magically popped up nearby, anyway

I stuffed all the coins into my pockets just in time to hear wheels churning up gravel and sand. I looked up, alarmed, and dived behind the fountain when I saw a van start to pull around the remains of a community building. There was a radio playing loudly, along with laughter and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground before the tires squealed, and the van drove away.  
I waited for a few minutes before peering up over the edge to make sure they were gone.  
They had thrown a medium-sized metal box onto the front porch of one of the houses, and hearing another clanking sound farther away, I guessed they did it again. But why? Curious, I approached the box and, seeing that it wasn't locked, opened it.

I was greeted by the sight of bullets. A whole shit-load of them. I could feel my mouth drop open slightly at the sight, and I stood gawking for a good few seconds before I closed the box and, with some effort, picked it up.  
It took me a little while to carry it all the way back to the main house, but when I did, I saw that I wasn't alone. Other boxes had been collected and piled against the side of the house, and when he saw me coming, Soldier waved me over. "Looks like the Announcer wasn't lying - about the whole Hale employees thing," he stated, taking the box from my aching arms. I nodded gratefully, wiping sweat off of my forehead. "What's in this one?"  
"Bullets."  
"Good. That's mostly what's in the other boxes, except there are a few with some medical supplies and some food." With a grunt, he put the box down as the start of its own pile and clapped his hands, turning back to me. "Bring any more over if you find 'em."  
I rolled my eyes, more out of habit than anything. "Duh." He just gave me a little, dry grin and waved me off.

I didn't find any more boxes, and I only saw the van one more time, when it was pulling back onto the main street and driving away. Sniper was by me, watching them with indifference. "Betcha they really _were_ drunk," he said bitterly. "But I guess's long as they do their job, there's no complainin', eh?"  
I didn't ask why he seemed so angry; I didn't have to. We had something in common, in that little sense of dysfunctional father/son relationships, so all I felt the need to do was offer him a glance of understanding.

Everyone went to bed early that night, just after the sun went down over the tops of the broken and ruined houses. I was tempted to just give up and pass out right along with them, but something kept me up, kept me wandering aimlessly on a late-night, last minute tour.  
When I finally did get back to the house, the moon was just shy of being right above me, and cast a just enough of a shadow that I nearly jumped out of my skin when Z said, out of nowhere, "Sere you are." I yelped, relaxing when I saw him step out into somewhat decent light. He smiled, a bit apologetically, and held out a bottle of water out to me. I took it gratefully and took a giant drink as he said, "I was wondering where you were."  
"Walkin' around," I said, throat burning from a dryness I hadn't noticed before. "Though you might've guessed that already."  
He chuckled quietly, taking a drink from his own bottle of water, and motioned for the swing. I followed him, and we sat down in silence, listening to the crickets chirp. I leaned back, slouching against the flimsy cushion on the swing with my head resting against the back edge, and sighed contentedly.  
"Eet's nice, eesn't it?"  
"Mmuhuh," I muttered, rolling my head to the side to look at him lazily. "I don't think it was ever this quiet back at the forts."  
Z was staring off into the distance, his face both complacent and uneasy. "Eet wasn't."  
"You nervous about tomorrow?" The way he unconsciously bit his lip answered my question. "I'm sure it'll be fine. The big bad Spy ain't gonna go down easy."

He chuckled warmly, a sound I definitely didn't mind hearing, finally tearing his gaze away from the emptiness to look at me. "Eet's easier when you sink you're invincible."  
"Hell yeah!" I said, setting my water on the porch and completely turning my body towards him. "Besides, you can't die. Who else could I bug as much as I bug you?"  
"You don't bug me," he said sincerely, his smile shrinking.  
I raised my eyebrow. "Seriously? I don't bug you? Even though I hang around like a dead vulture?"  
Z shuddered at the comparison. "'ardly. For one, you don't smell as bad, and two, you are _much_ nicer to 'ave around."  
My smile turned less mocking, more genuine, at that. "Good. I'd hate if I got on your nerves too much."

We fell back into a comfortable silence, drinking water and listening to nature at work. In the distance, I heard coyotes howling. "Hey, Z?"  
"Oui?"  
"Just so ya know, I'm glad I metcha."  
He raised an eyebrow, but an amused, agreeable smirk spread across his face. "Getteeng sentimental, are we?"  
"A little, yeah," I laughed, scooting a little closer to him. "S'just that, y'know, if this works, we get ta go home. And France is pretty far away from Boston."  
"Eet ees," Z agreed; we were sitting close enough for me to see the haggard lines on his face, the way his hair was ruffled up in the front, and how his eyes didn't look as tired up close as they did from far off.

"You know I love you, right?"

The words came out before I could stop them, and when they did, I could feel all of the blood in my body rushing to my face. Holy shit, did I _seriously_ just say that? What the hell was wrong with me?  
Z seemed to turn into a statue at the words, his face caught in an expression between surprise and thought. My mind went back to that time outside of Sniper's RV, when the tumbleweed blew past us in perfect time to an awkward silence, and I could imagine that very same tumbleweed blowing past _again_, bright like it was daylight instead of night time and -

"I know."

I looked up, a jerking motion that nearly sent me sprawling off of the swing. "Huwha?"  
"I know." Z regained life, the corner of his lips quirking in a half-smile. "I 'ave to admit, I was completely oblivious at first. But then I saw your face when you found out about David and I, and I kind of pieced it togezzer."  
The heat started draining from my face and back down into the rest of my body where it belonged. "R-really?"  
"Oui." He sighed and turned to casually drape his arm over the back of the swing, crossing one leg over the other and facing me directly. "You did a good job at 'iding it, sough."  
I shrugged sheepishly, grinning. "Well, y'know. I pick up on things. And, hell, since secrets are coming out, it runs in my blood; turns out that the RED Spy's my biological dad."  
His eyebrows rose. "Really?"  
"Yeah." Pausing, I decided to face my fears and ask, "S-so...?"  
"So...?" he echoed, smiling teasingly and cocking his head.  
"U-uh. You... got anything else to say? About... what I said? And stuff?" And with that, I became certain that it was pretty obvious: charisma was _not_ one of my strong points.  
Z thought for a minute, stroking his chin for emphasis before shaking his head. "Non."

My heart skipped. "No?"  
"Non."

And with that, he took me by the chin, tilted my head up, and kissed me.

At this point, I was pretty sure that I'd collapsed and passed out in the middle of my walk around town, and was expecting to wake up to coyotes eating my insides or something. And apparently, he picked up on that, because he drew back and looked at me oddly. "Bryan?"  
"Huh?"  
"Are you alright?"  
"Y-yeah. Uh. Did you just...? I mean..." I blinked, suddenly realizing that this wasn't a dream, and I'd just sat there like a vegetable while he was fucking _kissing me_. "Shit."  
He stared at me for a moment before bursting out into laughter. And despite my embarrassment, I joined in after a second, resting my forehead against his shoulder. "Shiiiit." Once the laughter died down, I leaned back and cleared my throat. "Uh. Can I call a redo? I'm entitled, right?"  
"Well, given the circumstances," he said soberly, linking his hand inquisitively. "I'd say so."  
"Well, okay then."  
"Okay sen."

Try number two went much better; this time, I actually _moved_, resting my hands on his shoulders and giving a completely girlish giggle that I didn't even care about. Nothing ridiculously cliche happened, like fireworks or anything stupid like that, but it did feel nice.  
He pulled away after about half of a minute, smiling. "Sat try was _much_ better."  
"Yeah," I said dreamily, still kind of convinced that I was dreaming despite the fact that nothing happened after I had discreetly pinched myself.  
"So, we should probably 'ead inside. Eet's late."  
I blinked and looked at him, taking in his words for a moment before nodding and getting to my feet. But just as he stepped to the door, I made a little noise to get his attention. "I..." I started once he turned to me, but the words died on my lips, and were replaced with one simple one. "Thanks."  
He just nodded, smiling at me again before he opened the door and held it open for me.

Part of me wanted to lie awake in a daze after I'd settled onto the floor, Z much closer to me than he had been the first night, but a bigger part wanted to just go to sleep. So I did, after rolling onto my side and absorbing the sight of his sleeping face as it faced me.

Today was a good day.


	19. Loss

**A/N:** Okay, this only took forever. And it's shorter than I thought it would be, but I thought a short update is better than no update at all, and I've been slacking off on this way too much. This here is the true beginning of the end, which features RED Scout being kinda epic and sneaky Spies.

* * *

I woke up, suddenly, out of a deep sleep, and the air swam in front of my eyes.

It was still dark outside, which confused me; how long had I slept? Still groggy, yet completely awake, I got up and looked out the window. The moon was completely absent from the sky, which was just barely starting to lighten. My guess was that it had only been a few hours.  
I sighed, scratching at my scalp and looking back at the room. I'd only seen it in the dark when I was sure there were others roaming about, making it safe somehow. But now that I knew everyone was asleep or wrapped up in their own problems, everything seemed different... dangerous.  
I shivered, having just thoroughly creeped myself out, and made my way back to the little spot on the floor that was warm and semi-safer than standing out where someone could easily see me.

That's when I noticed that Z was gone from his spot on the floor.

A gentle thud in the direction of the worn-out sofa got my attention, and my reflexes nearly had me grabbing my bat before my eyes finished adjusting to the darkness and I saw him sitting there, nearly completely dressed. The noise had been him dropping his shoes on the floor. "Z?" I asked, relaxing slightly.  
"Ouias. Did I wake you?"  
"Nah." I stretched, smiling at the stretching darkness before I realized why he was getting dressed. "Your headin' out to HQ, right?"  
"In about 'alf an 'our," he replied, tapping his heel on the floor before standing and looking me dead in the eye. "Are you scared?"  
I couldn't lie. "Yeah. Just 'cause there're so many things that could go wrong, y'know?"  
"As war is," was his reply as he adjusted his tie and started to the door. But, haflway there, he stopped, and then slowly came over to me, hands limp at his sides as he just stared. "I... feel like I should say somezing," he said awkwardly, spreading his hands as if they were an example. "But..."

I just smiled and gave him a light punch in the shoulder. "Get 'em, tiger."  
With the both of us chuckling, he hugged me before he disappeared out the door.

Surprising to myself, I fell back asleep about an hour later, only to be woken up by Sniper nudging me with his foot. Opening an eye just enough to see blurred outlines of everything, I noticed that the sun was pretty high up in the sky. "C'mon, kid," Sniper was saying, hat in hand. "Meetin' up f'r 'n update from the Spoies."  
I launched myself upright and shook my head, trying to wake up as Sniper headed out the door.

We were all gathered around the radio nervously for half an hour before my dad's voice came over the receiver. "How is it going?" I asked nervously, wringing my hat in my hands.  
"How's Anabel doing?" he replied. It was all part of the code; he'd be playing the father figure, worried about his sick daughter. He was asking how we were holding up, if we hadn't suddenly been ambushed in case the Announcer really was a double agent or something.  
"We're all fine," Engineer assured from behind me, leaning over my shoulder so he could be heard clearly. "How about the security, what's it like there?"  
"Her fever hasn't broken yet?"

Soldier and I exchanged a glance, and I could hear Pyro sighing from across the room. That meant security was pretty tight, and that it would be a lot harder to get in and get to the Director without getting hurt.  
"I'll see if I can get out around one, come back and check on her," he continued, even though none of us said anything. That meant that, if we were going to go in, we had a good hour to get ready and get there.  
"Hey, Dad," I said suddenly, right as he had given the code of signing off. I could tell without even looking that everyone was taken aback; a quick glance over my shoulder showed Engineer raising his eyebrows at Sniper. "You be careful, alright?"  
There was a long pause, and then: "You too. I'll see you soon."

"Alright! We're making two trips," Soldier barked, loading his shotgun and checking it, re-checking it. "Heavy-hitters going in first; that's me, Heavies, Pyros, and Snipers."  
The sounds of bullets clinking and the loading of clips filled the air; the whirring and buzzing of the Medics' Mediguns and miniguns. All of it just started making my heart race, just like back in our days of mindless warring. It really felt like it had been years since then, years since I'd sat on a too-hot bus with an intimidating Russian man who took up the entirety of a back seat; years since cigarette smoke became a staple of common scents in my life. I felt older, too, as cliche as it was.

"We're heading out."  
I looked up at the RED Pyro staring at me intensely, her lips set in a way that showed she meant business. "Yeah? I'll see ya out there, then."  
"If you get compression blasted, you're welcome."  
I laughed, and she cracked a smile before pulling her mask over her face.

"When I woke up this morning, you were on my mi-i-i-ind, and you were on my mind..."  
The RED Scout was singing under his breath shakily, watching the sands roll past the window. I sat across from him, twirling my bat in my hands while making sure I wasn't going to hit anyone. The Engineers were doing last-minute revisions to blueprints, making sure they had everything, and Medic had his hands locked together and pressed against his forehead. Everyone was on edge; they knew this was it. We'd either win and hopefully get to go home, or all be killed before we got through the doors. I'd either be eating pizza back in Boston, or lying under six feet of dirt.  
I shivered, and looked towards the driver's seat. We were just about there; I could tell by the way Sniper's jaw set and his eyes stayed glued on the road ahead of him. The collection of dull red and blue shirts and uniforms drew closer and closer until they disappeared right past us, and we pulled to a stop.

I re-checked my pistol, made sure the safety was off, and nodded to Soldier, who held up a walkie talkie to his mouth. He nodded back, clicked it on, and simply said: "Commence. Try not to kill anyone if you can help it."  
We counted to three, and the RED Scout and I took off, kicking up a sand storm as we went. My muscles tensed as the HQ grew closer, and bigger, and black dots that were guards became visible against the white concrete building. Simultaneously, we drew our bats, counting down the seconds until we were in range.

They never saw us coming.

I jumped and was airborne for a good few seconds before my bat collided with the guard's shoulder. While he stumbled back, I hit him again from under his chin, just hard enough to knock him out. Then, I spun and delivered a roundhouse kick to the front doors, sending them crashing into the face of a guard that had been standing inside. "Nice," the RED Scout said approvingly, tossing his bat in the air and catching it after letting it spin a few times.  
"That's how I roll." I motioned for the rest of the gang to approach and entered HQ.

It was just as cold-looking inside as it was out. The secretary stood up, phone to her ear and mouth open in shock, and I stopped to tap on the counter. "No need for that, sweetcheeks, we're gonna just be in'n out. Still, ya might wanna just sit tight under your desk or somethin'." Complete with a wink, I hopped away to Soldier, who examined the place before 'tsk'ing.  
"Thought it'd be bigger. Anyway. REDs, take the right. BLUs, we're going left. Keep an eye out, and be careful. Our spies should still be in disguise, or at least cloaked. Try and clear out the place, get some foothold safe spots, and do NOT engage the Director until we're all re-grouped." He looked around at each of us, slowly, and it didn't take me until we'd split up that I realized what he was doing.

He was saying goodbye, to the people he might not see alive again.

Dramatically kicking down doors, partly just because we felt like it, we scoured each and every room in search of anything useful, or for the Spies. I was a bit worried that they hadn't gotten to us yet, but I figured they were laying low, ready to move whenever it was safest. Most of the places we looked just had cowering innocents inside that screamed at the sight of us; I made sure to shoot an apologetic look towards them before we moved on.

As we reached the second floor, I moved to turn the corner, but was pulled back the last second. "Wait!" Engineer warned, craning his neck to examine the corridor before us.  
There were three guards at the end, one who was wearing some kind of strange armor. A wicked-looking machine gun was propped on his shoulder. "That looks like it could punch a good hole in someone," Soldier said.  
"Yeah, and there's more'a them," I replied, noticing a group of shadows in the nearest doorway.

Before we could do anything, there was an excited whooping, and the RED Scout ran from behind the group.  
"What the hell is he - ?" Soldier started forward, cocking his shotgun, but what happened next made him still.

The RED Scout smashed his bat into the back of the armored guard's head, then struck at his legs. Then, noticing one of the normal guards had moved out of swinging range, he broke into a run in record time, dropped to the ground, and slide-kicked him in the knee while drawing his gun and shooting the other guard in the shoulder.  
"Damn," I said approvingly, giving him a thumbs up when he stood. He flashed me a grin, then turned to jump-kick the shot guard in the chest.

The soldiers I had guessed were in the other room came out, armed and aiming, and something strange happened. Without realizing it, I stepped from behind the corner, whistled, and waved at them as they turned to see what had caused the noise.  
Using the distraction, the RED Scout took the initiative and knocked two of them out in a single blow. The third guy aimed his gun, looking frantically between the two of us; the poor guy was terrified. Seeing this, the RED Scout lowered his bat, raising an eyebrow. "Dude. Just run. It'll be easier."

The guard wasted no time in complying and disappearing back into the room.

I approached, and held up a hand for a high-five. "That was freakin' unbelievable, man."  
The RED Scout grinned, and obliged. "You haven't seen anything yet."  
"Give us a little warning the next time you do that." The RED Sniper stepped from behind the wall, kukri covered in blood.  
And Soldier noticed. "A ketchup bottle better've exploded," he warned, frowning when the Englishman shrugged, giving no explaination.

Then came the message that we never hoped to hear: "RED Engineer is down! Repeat, RED Engineer is down!"


	20. Damages

A/N: Oh my goodness gracious, we're almost done. I have to admit, the end of this chapter... made me kind of sad. :c Mostly because we're so close to the end ah god. There will probably be one more actual chapter, and then maybe an epilogue. So enjoy this while you can, and I apologize if any negative feelings are invoked.

* * *

"What?" The RED Scout's triumphant expression crumpled, and he stared at the walkie-talkie on Soldier's hip.  
"Damn it!" Soldier swore, unhooking it and bringing it up to his face. "What happened?"  
The RED Medic's voice replied, surprisingly cool: "Zhey got zhe jump on us - ve're hiding under a stairvell right now." After a pause, he added, "Back-up vould be appreciated."  
"I'm on it." The RED Scout was gone before we could say anything in response.  
"Damnit," Soldier grumbled, lowering his head with eyes closed for a brief second. "Poor bastard."  
Engineer patted him on the back. "S'much as I hate to say it, we don't have time to mourn right now. We need to find the Spies."

I followed as they led the way through the rest of the floor, shooting when told and feeling more like a fourth wheel than an asset. What had the RED Engineer ever done? There was so much chaos going on that I knew thinking about this wasn't the best thing to do if I wanted live, but I'd never had anyone I actually knew die before.  
"Hey!" The RED Sniper gestured to a room at the end of hallway that was otherwise a dead end. "Think I saw something, looked a cloak flickering."

Soldier nodded and, holding one hand up, pointed his shotgun towards the opposite wall while reaching out and knocking the first five lines of "Shave and a Haircut" on the nearest door.  
There was an immediate response of two knocks, and Z decloaked in front of us with a dry smile. "About time you caught up," he said teasingly, shrugging his jacket sleeve back over his cloaking watch.  
"Hey!" I grinned at the sight of him, but caught myself before I got too overjoyed. "Where's...?"  
Z lit up a cigarette and pointed behind us. "'E went back to 'elp se RED Medic."  
"So you heard?"  
He paused for a moment, thoughtfully blowing smoke from his nose. It almost looked scary, in a way. "Ouias. It's... unfortunate. But not somesing to dwell on now."

I almost thought nothing was wrong... until he slipped up and let the slightest hint of a limp through when he approached. I immediately gave him a look, but he kept his gaze straight ahead, as if he didn't notice. "Any word on the Director?" Soldier asked, spinning his shotgun in the air before holstering it.  
"Actually, yes." A devious grin came to Z's face, but static came on Soldier's walkie-talkie before he could elaborate.

"Reportingk," Medic said; his voice was tired and out of breath. "Zhe back of zhe buildingk is practically abandoned, und I'm finding markers. Should ve call for regroup?"  
"Yeah," Soldier replied after looking to each of us. "Any more casualties?"  
"Nein, but... zhe RED Heavy has disappeared."  
"Damn it. See if you can't get to him, I'll send out the regroup order."

"Markers?" the RED Sniper asked, cleaning off his sunglasses as we walked.  
"We set sem up to remember where we've been," Z explained, casually tossing his expended cigarette over his shoulder. "Sey're just little scratches in se walls, nossing special."  
"Didja mark the way t' the Directer?" Engineer looked up from twirling his hard hat around his finger.  
"No, but we'll be able to tell where it is. Se halls look different."

It was only Medic and Heavy when we got to the rendezvous point, but everyone else started appearing through the halls, one after the other. "Check ammunition; if you need rations or anything, now's the time to take them!" While Soldier provided direction, I took the time to sit right next to Z and stare at him pointedly.  
"Eet's fine," he muttered after a moment.  
I sighed, shaking my head and lightly pushing him with my fingertips. "Whatever, just take it easy now. Let us manly men handle this."  
He stared at me for a moment, then burst into laughter, putting an arm around my neck; I pretended to frown, but it didn't last long.  
"Alright. Think we need to play around a little longer, or should we get this sick bastard?" Soldier said once everything was relatively still. Heavy, the RED Scout, and the Pyros were all on watch, and turned to him at the question.  
Demoman looked around, frowning when no one stepped up, and sighed. "Moight as well git on with it." He stood up, taking a swig from his bottle, and approached Soldier. "I wonna be oota here _befir_ the bars open."  
Everyone got a good laugh out of that as they nodded in agreement and started to pack up their things.

The formation was weird, but functional: the RED Scout and I were leading, ready to race ahead to check around corners; Heavy and Medic were right behind us; Soldier and the RED Medic were behind them... Engineer was smack-dab in the middle of the line, hauling a dispenser he had set up during regrouping, surrounded by the Pyros, and the Demomen followed them while the Spies and Snipers brought up the rear.

The most uneasy thing, though, was when Dad sent up the message that we'd reached the last place they'd seen the Director without any hostile activity. The Demomen immediately set to work, laying sticky bombs on the ceiling and walls, while Engineer put down all he was carrying. I looked around before giving Soldier a glance. He clicked the safety off on his shotgun and nodded at me.  
I took a deep breath, kicked the door open, and rolled into the room with my Scattergun drawn. "Awright, the jig's up, asshole!"

The Director was facing away from us, but turned his head once I had spoken. He turned around completely after a moment, tossing an empty martini glass aside, and scoffed. "It's about _time_ you idiots got here!"  
I glanced over at the RED Scout, who also had his gun trained on the Director, in confusion as he continued to talk. "Do you have _any_idea how much money I'm going to have to spend to get this place cleaned up? Not to mention hiring replacements for the guards you took down." He tsked, crossing his arms.

The Director looked about Soldier's age, with slicked-back brown hair and sunglasses covering his eyes. He was wearing an expensive looking suit and an irritated, yet still condescending, expression. "With all that commotion, I assumed you'd get here earlier and we could finally get this over with, but _nooooo_, you had to draw it out. Why didn't I think of putting cameras in the halls? I bet the show was -"  
A bullet ricocheted from the wall just past the Director's head, and he yelped, ducking behind his desk. Sniper lowered his rifle, eyes cold and collected behind his aviators. "'Ey, that actually worked. Now we know how te _shut'che up_."  
"Rude!" The Director poked his head up, glaring at Sniper as he brushed off his shoulder.  
"Says the guy makin' people kill each other," I snarled, adjusting my finger on the trigger of my gun.  
"Hey. They choose to kill each other." He spread his hands, standing up straight once he was sure no one would be shooting at him again. "I just give them the tools to do it. Besides, it's not like these companies were doing anything _productive_ when I took over."

"Give us one reason not to blow that pretty mouth off your face," Engineer said, having moved to a more secure location by the door.  
"For one, thank you for noticing, I made sure to shave _extra_ close today," he replied with a cheeky grin. "And two, because you haven't heard what I have to say."

Part of me just wanted to pull the trigger right there. If I had to stare at his face for _one more minute_ -

He must have seen my finger tense, because the Director knelt down, retrieved a pistol, and had it pointed at me before anyone could blink. "Ah-ah! Not so fast, city boy."  
I hesitated, my hands shaking just slightly; this was the first time in a long time someone had pointed a gun at me, and I had no doubt that this someone would gladly shoot me if he wanted. My fingers relaxed, but I kept the gun trained on him, hearing Engineer's breath hitch from behind me. "Good. Now... I don't suppose we can come to an understanding?"  
"Hell no," Soldier and the RED Medic said in unison.  
The Director chuckled. "I didn't think so."

And that's when he pulled the trigger and shot me.

Nothing happened, at first; my first reaction was to shoot back, but my gun had slipped from my fingers to fall to the ground with a clatter. I heard more shouts, and saw the RED Sniper lift up his rifle from the corner of my eye.  
As I fell to my knees, the Director swung around and fired again. I saw the RED Sniper slam against the wall and slide down, leaving a trail of red wherever his head touched, the lens of his classes cracked in the right eye where he'd been shot.  
Another shot - BOOM - and the Director fell this time, howling as blood gushed from his knee. I tried to move, get in one hit, I couldn't let him go without me giving him a broken bone or two, I just _couldn't_, but I fell instead, finally bothering to put a hand up to my throat as feet surrounded me, and I saw Z kneel down next to me; Engineer, holding his shotgun, fury in his eyes as he crossed over and slammed his foot on the Director's knee, pointing the gun at the Director's head. I heard him say something, but exactly what, I couldn't understand, and I finally looked at my hand, which Z had taken in his and was clasping to desperately, to see that it was coated in blood -

And, finally, the pain set in, a throbbing, stinging pain where my neck met my shoulder, and I blacked out, my vision fading into that hole where the RED Sniper's eye used to be.


	21. Home

**A/N:** I should probably warn some people that there's a lot of romantic fluff in this chapter. Romantic fluff of the slashy variety. So if that's not your cup of tea, feel free to skip it.  
And here it is, ladies and gentlemen: the final chapter of Playing With Danger. It's taken nearly a full two years, but I've finally managed to finish a multi-chapter story... kind of. But this is just the end of the _main_ story; I've still got a two-part epilogue in store, so watch out for those!

* * *

It was the beeping that brought me out of complete darkness; a steady, whining beep that came every second or so. But it was the pain that woke me up.

My neck hurt. My shoulder hurt. Actually, to think about it, _everything_ hurt in some way. I felt like I was being smothered. I wanted to flail around, get everything off of me and figure out what the hell was going on, but even moving my left arm slightly sent a shockwave of even more pain through my body, so I didn't.  
I heard something move to my right, and a deep sigh. "You awake?" I groaned, and earned a chuckle in response. "Guess so."

I finally opened my eyes, and took in my surroundings for a minute before hoarsely asking, "S'this a... hospital?"  
The voice had come from Engineer, who had his goggles around his neck and dragged a hand across his forehead before smiling. "Yeah. Sniper brought'che here's soon as he could."  
I took a deep breath. The pain in my neck - and, consequently, my throat - was starting to dull, but it was still hard to talk. "I... what happened?"

He was silent for a moment, and I rolled my head to look over at him.

He looked tired; tired, and relieved. "The Director shotcha." He gestured just above his collarbone, where neck met shoulder. "Right there. Then, he killed the RED Sniper..."  
I winced, remembering the last thing I'd seen before blacking out. "Yeah, I remember that." After a pause, I gave him a weak smile. "But I also vaguely remember _you_ bein' pretty badass."  
Engineer chuckled uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah... Guess I kinda jumped off the wagon for a minute. But he won't be runnin' track anymore, I can tell ya that."  
I chuckled, and struggled to sit up, but he reached over to push me back down. "I wouldn't do that... yer lucky to be alive, y'know." Seeing the confusion in my face, he continued, voice quiet, "The bullet... grazed yer subclavian - main artery that goes through right there. Just a little lower... and..."

He trailed off after that, but I got the picture.

Other than the beeping of the machines, all was quiet for a few moments. "Is everyone else okay?" I finally asked, my eyes widening slightly. "Geesh, way to go, me, not even wondering about anyone else."  
"It's fine, Scout, _yer_ the one in the hospital bed." He laughed, then cleared his throat. "Everyone else is fine, 'cept fer some bumps, bruises, and cuts."  
"What about the RED Heavy? They ever find him?"  
Engineer shifted in his seat uncomfortably, averting his eyes. "Well... they found _most_'f him." I made a quiet 'oh' before he continued. "Grenade went off, I'm guessin'. Got both him _and_ a guard."  
I closed my eyes and said a short, mental prayer.

I heard the door to the room open, and a light cough. Engineer looked up, then stood with a grunt. "There you are. Should I be leavin' y'all alone?"  
"Non, it's fine," I heard Dad reply, and I closed my eyes, smiling as I heard him come over to me. "Bryan? Are you alright?"  
"S'fine as I can be," I replied, opening my eyes again. He sighed, clapping a hand on Engineer's shoulder before coming to kneel by the bed. Engineer carefully sunk back down into the chair and looked between the both of us. "By the way, Engie, in case ya didn't realize, this is my dad."  
Engineer chuckled, rubbing his nose. "I had a feeling that's what was goin' on." He looked up and nodded. "You've got a good kid here."  
Dad's smile was thin, but genuine. "Indeed. Alsough I don't know 'ow much I can say about sat."  
"You'll be able ta say a lot more soon," I chimed in, lifting my arm to punch him lightly in the shoulder. "Ow."  
"Careful now," he said.

They stayed in my room to tell me more about what happened after I left. Apparently, the Announcer had showed up right after they'd taken me out, and had the Director taken away, promising to inform us of our next move; but until then, my hospital room and rooms for everyone at a hotel were to be paid in full by the companies. Everyone else was either resting up or at a bar - I couldn't blame them.  
Sniper and Soldier had stayed as long as they could to see me after I got out of surgery before going back to help the others. And while I was sleeping, the RED Pyro had come in to see me and stayed until she was about to pass out. Everyone else was waiting to see if I was up to so much activity before checking up on me, apparently.

The first one to come in was our Pyro, long after I'd insisted Dad and Engineer get going so they could get some rest. He was dressed in street clothes; another courtesy of the Announcer, who'd had the rubble cleared from the fort entrances and had our stuff returned to us. "Hey," he said quietly, hands in his pockets and hair as vibrantly orange as ever.  
"How's everyone?" I asked, finding the strength to sit up just slightly.  
"Tired. Most of them are probably drunk by now." Pyro paused before leaning in closer. "Spy's been tearing himself apart worrying about you, though." There was a hint of questioning in his voice.  
I closed my eyes, sighing deeply. "Yeah?"  
"Are you guys...?"  
"Yeah."

He paused, then gave me a small smile. "You don't seem like the type."  
"I thought that, too," I joked with a little laugh. "Tell 'im I'm alright?"  
"You can tell him yourself, he's coming in about ten minutes." At my raised eyebrow, he explained, "He would've come earlier, but we all told him to wait a bit; let him cool down."  
"Oh. Thanks." I reached out my hand, palm up, for a light high-five, which he returned as gently as possible. "How 'bout you?"  
Pyro just shrugged again. "Been worse. Little headache, nothing too bad... I'm really glad you're okay, you know."  
My hand was still reached out, so I leaned to pat him on the shoulder. "Thanks. Really, man. It means a lot."

Sure enough, once Pyro left, Z quietly slipped in through the door about ten minutes later, and he looked even more tired that usual. "Y'know, I think your eyebags are getting eyebags," I said once he had closed the door.  
He didn't bother with a response, instead coming to immediately sit in the chair at my side and lean over, putting his forehead against mine in a weird kind of hug.  
We stayed like that for a while, until he finally whispered, "Sey said you might not make eet. I... wanted to shoot sat bastard myself."  
I sighed, closing my eyes again. "I kinda wish you had."

At that point, he probably realized what he was doing, because he straightened back up and laughed before clearing his throat, tugging at the loose tie around his neck. "But that wouldn't 'ave been very professional of me, non?"  
I let out a little snort as I stretched, wincing slightly at the flicker of pain that resulted. "Ah, you're plenny professional in otha things..." After a moment of thought, I looked at him from the corner of my eye. "You were worried about me?"  
He actually blushed a little at that, damn it to Hell. "Eet 'appens."  
"Aww." I grinned teasingly, leaning forward. "You _liiiike_ me. You really _liiiiii_-"  
Z cut me off with a kiss; short and sweet, but it got the point across. "Yes," he said once he'd pulled away, leaving me reeling. "Remind me of my crimes se next time I exhibit such uncharacteristic notions."  
I blinked, my mind finally clearing enough for me to reply with, "S'not what I meant."  
"I know." He smiled cheekily at me before patting me on the head and standing up. "Do you want to sleep a little more?"

As much as I wanted him to stay, for us to talk more, I could feel exhaustion winning the fight against exhilaration. "Mhuh... yeah. Unless ya wanna stay a little longer."  
He actually looked like he wanted to take up the suggestion, but a yawn from me sealed the deal. "No. I'll be seeing you much more tomorrow."  
He left after that, stroking my hair and whispering, "_Bonne nuit_."

**==ddddbbbb==**

I was discharged from the hospital the following afternoon, on official company orders. The doctors didn't like it, but I'd healed enough that they eventually agreed I should be fine.  
Soldier forgot when he saw me, fiercely clapping a hand on my bad shoulder while giving praises; a little whine of pain reminded him, though, and he immediately dropped his hand and apologized.  
"Zhe Announcer vants a meetingk tomorrow," the RED Medic said as he played with a glass of bourbon. "To discuss our official retirements."  
"We're free, uh?" Sniper grunted, feet on the table; a few of the waiters were glaring at him pointedly, but none dared approach; a group of battle-hardened men weren't exactly the friendliest-looking bunch.  
"Sounds like."

Medic was leaning into Heavy's shoulder thoughtfully, but discreetly. "Zhen vhat? Ve get to go home?"  
The RED Pyro groaned, leaning back in her chair and letting her hair fall over the back of the chair. "_Guseju!_ That would be _amazing_!"  
"I'm sure it'll all be cleared up tomorrow," I assured, toying with my own drink; Z had bought it for me, under the notion that even I should be able to celebrate. "S'not worry about it."  
"Right!" Soldier agreed, slamming his own beer mug on the table. "Men - and lady," he added hastily, to the giggles of the RED Pyro, "Let's drink like royalty tonight."

That night was the first night I was truly able to relax since our last night in 2fort. We had dinner, then went out to bar-hop for as long as our bodies would let us, occasionally stopping for food if we felt the need. So no one was surprised that hangovers were rampant the next morning, when we received the call from the Announcer to meet at the train station.

Z and I had shared a room of two single beds, and I actually got up before he did; that was the point I realized he was kind of a lightweight when it came to anything but wine. "Wakey wakey," I sang quietly, shaking his shoulder after getting dressed.  
He groaned, rolling over and lightly brushing my hand away. "_Qu'est-ce que c'est_?" he muttered groggily.  
I blinked, pausing in the middle of throwing on a jacket I'd packed for the bases; I hadn't realized then just how the weather worked in the desert. "Huh?"  
Another moment passed before he opened his eyes completely and realized he'd spoken in French. "Ah - _pardon_." He chuckled a little before sitting up, stretching lazily. "English ees not my first language in se mornings."  
I shrugged it off, tossing his clothes at him and trying not to look. "Announcer wants to see us."  
"Now?" His voice was a mocking, childish whine as he digressed himself and started to get dressed. Of course, that didn't stop him from standing up and wrapping an arm around my waist the first minute he could, to my surprise.  
"Yeah, I know it sucks. Deal with it." I looked back at him and grinned before ducking out of his grasp and making my way to the bathroom.

The Announcer was clad in a knee-length, dark purple dress when she finally came to us; a cigarette smoldering in a long holder, her smile was still strangely condescending. "The Manns have been informed of what's happened, and agreed to pay you what was promised in your original contracts - with a bonus for the trouble you've had to go through."  
Practically everyone's jaw dropped, some less subtle than the others. "How much is this 'bonus'?" Soldier asked.  
"Approximately half a million. You've earned it. And I can assure you that the companies will never find such an excuse for pointless conflict to happen again." She paused to take a puff from her cigarette holder. "Train tickets have been provided for you, pick them up at the terminal. You'll be leaving at some point today."  
"Whoa whoa whoa!" I said, stepping forward. "Ain't that a bit short notice?"  
She shrugged, turning away. "Maybe. But we figured you might want the comforts of home as soon as possible. Besides, you'll have time to say your goodbyes. Your paychecks will come in the mail within the week."  
"Well," the RED Demoman said after a moment of stunned silence. "Best git oor tickets."

The RED Scout awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck before heading for the terminal. And, slowly, everyone started to follow. After a second's decision, I ran to catch up to Dad. "Come to Boston with me."  
He did a double take at me, gaping just slightly. "What?"  
"Come back to Boston." My voice dropped slightly as I added, "Be my real dad for more than a day."  
He just stared at me, mouth slightly ajar, but was jogged from his stupor by a train whistle. "I... What about...?"  
Somehow, I knew that would come up. "Hey, the worst that'll happen is Mom spends an hour in her room after possibly ignoring ya." I shrugged. "Best that happens, you have a romantic interlude in a sunset."

Pyro, who was walking past at that point, snorted in laughter, failing an attempt to hide it by clearing his throat. This caused Dad to snicker himself. "I suppose you 'ave a point."  
"So ya will?" I nudged his arm, grinning. "Huh? _Huuuuh_?"  
He eventually moved his arm away, frowning. "I 'ave a job, Bryan; one I can't simply walk away from."

Oh. Right. My grin slipped away, and I nodded, a bit embarrassed I hadn't taken that into account. "Well - you don't haveta go back right away, right? Ya can see what happens, _then_ figure all that out!"  
He started to respond, then reconsidered; maybe from the combination of my puppy-dog expression and the fact I'd actually come up with a decent plan. "...I suppose..."  
My grin returned two-fold, and I put my hand on his arm. "S'prolly not too late to exchange tickets."  
He looked at me, then at the trains lined up; then, when his gaze returned to me, he chuckled and ruffled my hair. "I zink you in'erited my silver tongue," he said after I whined, putting my hands on my head.

The Demomen were the first to go, followed by Heavy and Medic; they'd both traded their tickets for ones to Berlin. No one was really surprised. Soldier offered us a salute, then honored us with a handshake and an "It was an honor to serve with you" before leaving. And Engineer... well, he had to wipe away tears when he hugged me goodbye, and I couldn't blame him. Sniper even surprised me by muttering "You be good" before left.

Z's train came before mine. We both stood there awkwardly for a good minute, trying to think of some way to say goodbye that wasn't overly cheesy, until I finally handed him a little scrap of paper. "Uh," I started, "that's my number. Er, well, my mom's number. Just ask for me. If ya want. I'm not, like, _forcin_' ya to call me -"  
He smiled, stuffed the scrap in his jacket pocket, and gently touched my face. "I will. I'd give you mine, but I doubt my employers would like sat." He then drew me into a deep, long hug where he kissed my neck (oh man, _that_ made me blush a little), and then started for his train.  
He looked back at me before disappearing into the car. And then, a minute later, he was gone.

Soon enough, it was just me, Dad, and the RED Pyro. "East Coast, East Coast!" she chanted playfully, throwing a fist into the air until I joined in. It didn't last long; we both broke into laughter, and she hugged me. "Sucks you've got a boyfriend," she whispered, winking when she drew away and giggling at my bewildered expression.  
I took a window seat when our train finally arrived. She got off earlier than Dad and I, sliding me her phone number and grinning at me before departing.

And, as I saw the skyline of Boston in the distance of the window, Dad stirring from a well deserved bit of shut-eye, I smiled. "Welcome home," I said to no one in particular.


	22. Epilogue

**A/N, Part 1****:** Who has two thumbs and forgot about the epilogue? THIS GAL. :I So here it is, along with some sappy final notes at the end.

* * *

"Miss Pauling."  
The smaller girl started at the sound of her name being barked like an order. "Ma'am?"

Smoke curled like tendrils in the air from the chair before her, accompanied only by a voice and the slightest peek of graying hair. "What's the damage report on the bases?"  
Pauling sputtered for a moment before frantically pulling out the sheets. "U-um - various blood stains located all over both - worst in the BLU Scout's room - and explosion damage, for the most part. Although there have been one or two complaints about the smell."  
The chair spun around, revealing the Announcer, who rolled her eyes. "That's what we get for hiring men - for the most part." Breathing out smoke, she shook her head, tucking hair behind her ear. "Nothing else?"  
"No, ma'am."

The Announcer nodded. "Good." She spun her chair back around and looked up at the monitors; she could see the construction workers slowly breathing life back into the forts, replacing fallen concrete and mopping away dried blood like it was nothing. "These new cameras are glorious, aren't they?" She didn't give a chance to answer, immediately asking, "So. Do you think you'll be ready to tend to my replacement?"  
Pauling nodded vigorously, black hair falling and ruining what was once a perfectly executed bun. "Of course. And if not, I'm always ready for a challenge."

The Announcer just gave a slow bob of her head. Pauling had been hired in the last week before the 'revolt', as the Manns were calling it, and had proved herself to be invaluable help, if not a bit too cheerful. But with what she'd been hearing of her replacement, that would be just fine.  
"She'll be here within the week, right?"  
The Announcer looked back and sighed, standing up. "The day after I leave. If you need me, I'll be outside."  
"Yes, ma'am."

The Announcer had sent her two-weeks notice thirteen days ago. Her office was nearly completely empty now, save for last-minute mementos. After what had happened with the Director, she knew she was done; she couldn't bear to see what the Manns were going to do now.

They had regarded the Director incident rather flippantly; as long as one side suffered, they didn't care much what happened on the field. And it honestly scared her.  
Plus there was that whole "since the Director's gone, here, _you_ take all the responsibility for the business of the entire world" thing. And, frankly, that was something she was _not_ willing to handle.

Pauling rather liked the Announcer; curt, to the point, but with morals. Considering the things they'd seen, she was in awe at how the older woman handled everything. So the prospect of possibly having to work with a polar opposite was a bit intimidating.  
Nevertheless, she did what she was told. She knew how things worked; as an double business/marketing major, she understood that, sometimes, things had to get ugly to get the best result.  
And they _had_ gotten ugly. Pauling had been unfortunate to witness the RED Soldier's demise via satellite images, and it was _not_ a pleasant sight.

She shuddered just thinking about it.

After an hour-long break, the Announcer came in to shake her hand and depart.

Pauling made a point to come in early the day the new Announcer came in - er, the 'Administrator', actually. She was a tall, gaunt woman with an almost comical, solid streak of gray in her otherwise blue-black hair. "Because let's face it, Miss Paulson," the Administrator said, lighting up a cigarette in her long, black holder, "I'm not really _just_ announcing, am I?"  
"Paul_ing_, ma'am. And no, you're not."

The Administrator was... something else. She waved off any offers or explanations Miss Pauling had to offer, simply taking a seat at the control station like she'd been there all her life. "How about this, Paulman," she said after a moment, spinning in her chair to look at Pauling; her eyes had an almost unearthly glitter of mania in them that made the assistant's heart nearly stop beating. "Get me all of the files on everything currently in production. Weapons, technology in general - I want to see it _all_."  
Pauling had to interject at this: "Ma'am, are you sure? That's not really your field of -"  
"Get it!" The Administrator snapped like a crocodile that had been waiting to strike before spinning back around to face the monitors.

As Pauling uneasily exited the room, the Administrator smiled. "Let's get this show on the road."

* * *

**A/N Part 2: **Alright... so. I said in the chapter before this that the epilogue was going to be two parts, but after a bit of thinking and reviewing, I decided the second part, which would just be a little look at a little BLU Team reunion, just wasn't working. It had a little too much of an "everything is okay and nothing hurts" deal, which wasn't how I wanted to end this; I had to figure out how to make the connection that this Announcer was a different entity than the canon Administrator, and how this tied in to the actual Team Fortress 2 timeline.

I actually wrote this not long after I posted the last chapter, and the reason this took so long to publish was... well, issues with the second part, yet again. I didn't want to leave people hanging by only posting a part one, promising to get a second part done, and then never actually doing it. So all my apologies on how horribly late this is.

It's been a rough road, and I cringe a little inside when I look back at the first chapters. But all in all, I think it was totally worth it. And if you actually read to this point without going "bluh bluh what a loser", you automatically get all the hats. All of them. Every hat that has ever existed.

Enjoy them, and know this torture is finally over.


End file.
